Catch at Hope
by GarenKat Fangirl
Summary: Garen and Katarina are not friends; the Demacian and the Noxian are forever opposed, enemies without a doubt. But when Kat's father vanishes, fate pushes these two enemies together on a quest to uncover the secrets behind her father's disappearance. Garen/Kat Gang AU.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

* * *

"Joy, beauty, lie beyond my scope;

I strain my heart, I stretch my hands,

And catch at hope."

- _De Profundis_ , by Christina Rossetti

* * *

It was when he donned the mask that Garen truly felt like himself. Without it, he was just Garen Crownguard—a straight-A high school student who used to play football, only son of the wealthy Crownguard family, made rich via investments in the stock industry decades ago; he was a simple student who'd quit playing sports in order to focus on his studies, a simple young man.

But with the mask, he was so much more. No longer was he just a student—he was a man, intent on righting the evils of the world and bringing justice to the wicked. Carrying a tranquilizer gun and wielding a baseball bat, he was ready and willing to change the world.

And changing the world meant changing the streets. If the government couldn't take care of its citizens... then it fell to its citizens to take care of one another. And this, he and his fellow Demacians swore to undertake as their duty. When the government and the police force had their hands tied, it fell to Demacia to be right and just, and to help the innocent against the evils of the world.


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: A bit about the premise before we start. This is essentially a gang-AU, if you will. Noxus is the equivalent of the mafia in this story, so whenever you see references to Noxus, imagine Noxus as an organization, a gang with the history and reputation similar to that of the mafia. If you've read my other story, a warning: this fic is a lot darker, and definitely not a comedy, though there are a few references to Spinning.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter One**

* * *

They were testing out the new masks today. Traditionally, they'd just used refashioned ski masks for their operations. But ever since Xin Zhao had struck up that deal with Heimerdinger a few months ago, the Demacians had been getting a while slew of new toys to play with. Like these new masks. They didn't cover as much of the face as the old ski masks; they were helmets, really, with technically advanced hex-tech visors which left the lower half of the face exposed. The higher ups wanted to call them masks, perhaps in honor of the years spent actually wearing masks. Garen thought it was a little dumb, but it wasn't his place to question his superiors.

Whatever the case, the new masks left more of the face exposed, which meant there was more of a risk with wearing them; not much, but some. Security footage could have been an issue; that is, it _could_ have been an issue if Lux hadn't disabled the building's cameras remotely by hacking into the security system a few minutes ago.

"Are you in position?" Jarvan asked over the communicators, or comms for short, which had been built into the masks.

"I'm in position," Garen responded.

"I've _been_ in position for the past three minutes," Lux said, and Garen could practically hear her rolling her eyes.

"Good. One minute till go-time," Jarvan said. Garen took a deep breath, focusing. He adjusted his grip on his baseball bat, twirling it slightly in his hands before gripping it tightly with his right hand. His left edged towards the metal door handle leading to the back of the building.

A groan sounded from his feet, and Garen glanced at the man who was tied up on the floor of the back alley. The man was regaining consciousness, it seemed; that was bad. He might yell, attracting unwanted attention and tipping off the Noxians inside. Garen unholstered the minuscule tranquilizer gun on his hip and, with practiced movements, shot the man in the leg. The man went still again. Next time he knocked a guard unconscious, Garen would have to make sure the blow was stronger. He needed to focus. He'd botched the last mission; he needed to ensure there wasn't a repeat of that.

"Ten seconds," Jarvan said over the communicator and began to count down. Garen turned his attention back to the door as he re-holstered the gun.

"Three, two, one. Go!"

Right on cue, the lights inside the building went out, courtesy of Lux's hacking endeavors; cutting off power to a single building was child's play, for her. And in a building with few windows, confusion ensued. Alarmed voices sounded from inside, and they grew louder as Garen wrenched the door open. Immediately, a green light flashed on the upper right corner of his visor, and then the mask registered that he was stepping into darkness and activated its night vision, and Garen was able to see the dark hallway clearly. He closed the door behind him and listened intently to the sound of the voices speaking inside. He made his way towards them, turned a corner, and came upon two men, groping their way along the hallway walls towards the exit.

"What the hell happened to the power?"

"You tell me—I thought there were backup generators."

There had been. But Lux had taken care of those.

He could see them—but they couldn't see him. Garen lifted his baseball bat and, with careful aim, knocked it against one man's chest. The man flew backwards into the wall of the narrow hallway, out of breath and dazed. His companion heard the noise but was still unable to see, and Garen took advantage of his confusion by sending his free hand to meet the man's temple in a fist. The man was knocked down, unconscious, and the other man was only just regaining his senses and groping about in the dark, trying to find purchase on the wall to raise himself to his feet. Garen punched the man in the side of his face with enough force to send him to the ground, and the man stayed down.

Garen nodded to himself. Good. He was focused, now, for sure.

A blinking in the mask sounded to Garen's ears, and suddenly, the men's vitals popped up, confirming what Garen already knew. _Status: Unconscious_ , it read above both men, and Garen let out a huff.

"Lux, how do I get the vital signs to go away? They're impeding my vision," he said in his comm to Lux. She had read the manual for these things, whereas he'd only given it a quick once-over, skimming through the contents. Her reply was quick, and Garen knew it was probably because she was bored to death.

"It should turn off automatically within ten seconds, but you can just give the verbal command, 'vitals, off,' and—"

"Vitals, off," Garen grunted, and the vital signs instantly disappeared, once more granting him clear vision of the hallway.

"—if you want it back on, just say 'vitals, on,'" Lux finished.

"Thanks."

"You're dawdling," she pointed out.

She was right. Garen shook himself—he was off, today. He needed to focus.

He jogged down the hallway, taking a left as Lux instructed him to do, and he came upon several more men. Their eyes had adjusted to the dark, but not well enough. Within a minute, Garen had rendered them all unconscious (he checked using the mask, just to be sure), and he proceeded through the rest of the building.

He met Jarvan in the center of the building, right in front of the door to the basement. Jarvan had knocked out just as many men as Garen had, and he shifted the metal pipe on his shoulder ever so slightly as he stretched his neck, cracking it. Jarvan flexed his fingers before tightening his grip on the pipe.

"Ready?" Jarvan asked. In reply, Garen tried to open the door, only to find it locked.

"I forgot a pick," Garen groaned. What was _with_ him, today? First there was school, and now he was underperforming in the field. He really, _really_ needed to focus.

"Damn, I didn't bring one, either," Jarvan muttered. "Guess we've got to do this the old-fashioned way."

Garen took a few steps back before lunging forward, shouldering the door. He grunted as the wind was knocked out of him, and his shoulder smarted—it would probably bruise—but the door gave, and they were in.

"Authorities are being alerted," Lux informed them. Upstairs, waiting outside of the building, she was listening to the channels, keeping tabs on every potential obstruction to their task. "Better hurry."

They raced down the stairs, coming to another locked door. This time, Jarvan brought it down, and they charged into the room. Not surprisingly, it was empty; the men upstairs were supposed to be security, enough. Too bad for them, Garen thought ruefully as he and Jarvan walked to the center of the room, where a small safe lay, the only object in the room.

Jarvan reached into his pocket and produced another piece of equipment they were field testing—the sole reason they were here. It was a small, unassuming metallic device, shaped like a half-sphere. The flat edge was a magnet, and Jarvan placed it directly above the handle to the lock. He pressed a small button on the object's side, and it let out a soft hum, the whir of hex-tech, the new brand of technology they'd gotten from Heimerdinger. A few seconds passed, and then the humming stopped, and the device plopped off the safe and fell to the floor.

And the safe's door opened.

Inside was a briefcase and a cell phone. Garen took both, putting the phone in his pocket, and holding the briefcase in the hand that wasn't holding his bat. Jarvan picked up the device that had opened the safe and gave it an appraising look.

"It works," he said. "Sweet."

"Authorities five minutes out," Lux warned them, and Garen and Jarvan shared a look—they had very little time to make their escape.

They raced up the stairs and left the way Garen had entered. It was a good thing they had taken out all of the men as they'd made their way inside, or else they might have been held up as they left. But they ran outside without meeting anyone. That… wasn't right.

It was only instinct that made Garen react in time. He tackled Jarvan to the ground just as a knife flew overhead, impaling itself into the door.

Garen rolled and in an instant had discarded his bat in favor of his tranquilizing gun, and he turned to face the new threat.

A masked woman stood before him, clad in tight, black leather. Her hair was mostly hidden under a black hat, but strands of red peeked out. In her left hand, she twirled a knife lazily; in her right, she held a gun, pointed straight towards him. His tranquilizer was aimed at her, but there was no question—if he shot, she would, too, and only one of them would make it out alive. Tranquilizers didn't kill.

She nodded towards Jarvan, who had regained his footing and had his hand on his gun.

"One move and your pal's dead," the woman said in almost a lazy drawl. Garen shivered at the sound. "Drop your weapons."

When neither man complied, a scowl appeared on her face, and green eyes flashed dangerously behind the black mask. "I said _drop them_ ," she said, her voice lower, and Garen hesitated until Jarvan met his gaze and nodded. They released their guns, and put their arms in the air. But Garen didn't let go of the briefcase.

"Drop it," she said, meeting his eyes. He glared back defiantly, though he wasn't sure if she could see his eyes behind the tinted visor of the mask he wore.

"No," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine." Her finger pulled the trigger, and Garen dove to the side, taking shelter behind a dumpster. Jarvan had ducked behind it as well, and they heard the woman curse.

"Shadow, for fuck's sake," the woman yelled, and Garen turned in time to see a cloaked man drop down from the fire escape just behind them, the dangerous glint of steel flashing in the moonlight.

Garen was glad he had been focused enough to remember his spare tranquilizer gun. It was in his boot, and he pulled it out, took aim, and fired. He missed, as the cloaked man rolled to the side, but the action gave Jarvan the opportunity to tackle the man, and the two rolled as they tried to gain the upper hand in the grapple.

The woman hesitated, and Garen realized she wouldn't shoot her companion. He took advantage of her distraction and charged her, swiping the gun out of her hand before she could react. It clattered to the ground, and he kicked it out of her reach. She leaped backwards, out of range of his fists, and she tossed a knife at him. He was forced to duck, and then it was her turn to charge him.

She'd produced two more knives from somewhere, and Garen was forced to back up and use the briefcase as a sort of shield from her swipes. He couldn't aim his own gun at her, for she moved too quickly for him to aim properly, and he was too busy trying to dodge her knives to take proper aim.

"If you Demacians actually _killed_ people," the woman taunted as she grazed his arm when he moved just a fraction too slowly, and drew blood, "this might have been a fair fight."

Garen grunted as a dagger impaled itself in the briefcase, and he realized that he couldn't win if this kept up. So he changed tactics. With a grunt, he tossed the briefcase towards her. She hadn't been expecting the move, and she ducked instinctively. For just a moment, she was distracted as she followed the briefcase with her eyes, and that was all the time Garen needed to aim his tranquilizer gun and fire.

The woman's eyes widened and she glanced down to see the dart poking out of her thigh. Brilliant green eyes met his.

"Fuck," the woman grunted before she slid to the ground, and Garen quickly turned his attention to the grapple between the cloaked man and Jarvan.

The cloaked man clearly had the advantage, as Jarvan was only barely evading a knife to his gut. Just as Garen began to move to intervene, the cloaked man surveyed the situation and, taking note of his fallen companion, acted faster than Garen's eye could follow.

Almost too fast for the eye to track, the man grabbed Jarvan by the shoulder, spun him around, and brought the knife to his neck.

"Give me the briefcase," the man growled. Garen hesitated until he saw the line of red that began to trickle down Jarvan's throat, and then he retrieved the briefcase, yanking out the knife that the woman had impaled it with and tossing the briefcase towards the man.

"Back up," the man said, and Garen raised his hands as he took a step back. The cloaked man nodded towards the woman. Then he whispered something to Jarvan, and they walked forwards until they had passed the woman's fallen form.

Garen was sure the man was going to cut Jarvan's throat regardless of their cooperation, but the sound of sirens pierced the night air. The cloaked man tensed, and Jarvan realized that this was his chance; the man's arm had gone slack just enough, and Jarvan wrenched the dagger away from his throat and stumbled away, out of the man's reach.

Garen and Jarvan ran, glancing over their shoulders to see if the cloaked man would chase them. While he took a few steps after them, the cloaked man hesitated before turning back towards the woman, clearly prioritizing getting her out of the scene rather than eliminating the two of them.

"One minute ETA," Lux's strained voice said. Clearly she'd seen the altercation take place over the security cameras, given the higher-than-normal pitch to her voice. But her warning made them both aware of how little time they had left, and the two young men increased their pace down the block, made two lefts, and then a right before their getaway car came into view. Lux was waiting for them outside of the vehicle, and when she saw them running towards her, she dashed inside and started the engine, and the two men threw themselves into the car, slamming the door shut behind them. They didn't need to tell her to hurry—she floored it, and they were off.

It was only when they were halfway back to the hideout that Garen realized he was still holding the woman's dagger in one clenched, sweaty hand.

* * *

Kat really hated needles. Not in the I'm-afraid-of-them way, but in the how-does-this-little-prick-hurt-so-much kind of way. And the needle that the Demacian had shot her with wasn't exactly small. It had knocked her out for a good long time, and she'd been mortified by her failure.

Absentmindedly, her hand traced the scar above her left eye, feeling the slightly raised, smooth flesh. She'd gotten it a few years ago, but sometimes, after a nightmare, she'd wake and feel it throbbing with a red hot, searing heat that made it seem as if it had just been opened, as if the skin had been sliced apart once more.

The sound of the person beside her clearing his throat made her start, and she left thoughts of her scar for another time. She scowled at the slightly wider than usual eyes of Garen Crownguard as he watched her.

"Did you do the reading?" he asked.

"No," she replied. After waking up from the stupid tranquilizer, she'd had to give a full report to her father and Swain, and then she'd gone downstairs to the gym and punched the living daylights out of the punching bag as a means of venting her frustration with her failure.

Technically, as Talon had pointed out, they'd retrieved the briefcase—so they hadn't failed. The documents inside could have revealed several of the High Command members as being involved in Noxian dealings—for the Demacians to get their hands on those documents and reveal them to the police would have spelled disaster for Noxus. While the crime syndicate would never fall apart even if it lost some of its members, it would have lost some of its most established leaders had that briefcase fallen into Demacia's hands.

She and Talon had been waiting in the building over, having been tipped off by a Demacian who regularly gave Noxus info for the right price. How Leblanc had gotten ahold of him, she didn't know. Katarina thought the man was despicable as well as greedy, but she couldn't deny his usefulness. Thanks to his information, they'd known to expect a small attack, and they had found just that.

Katarina's thoughts returned to the man who's shot her. She'd never been hit by a Demacian's tranquilizer before—she'd always been too fast, too quick. But he'd taken her by surprise, or perhaps she'd underestimated him. She'd seen his bulky figure and assumed, correctly, that he wouldn't be as mobile as her and that he'd either rely on hand-to-hand combat or his gun. But she'd also assumed that he was just some dumb, muscley man who wouldn't think to distract her with the briefcase. Needless to say, that assumption had proved incorrect.

She had to give the man some grudging respect. It was a gamble to throw it at her when she might have simply caught it and then killed him. Bold. Stupid, maybe, but he'd predicted her movements and her reactions well enough to know it would work.

She hadn't been able to stop thinking about that Demacian. He'd plagued her thoughts in almost every waking moment since she'd woken up, and so _no_ , she _hadn't_ been able to focus enough to finish the reading she was supposed to be doing for this class.

Not that it really mattered. Her family had enough influence with the school that she'd pass no matter what. Just one of the many perks of being rich and coming from old money.

"Well, I managed to get a bit done. I always have trouble reading poetry, but from what I—"

"It's not poetry, it's a play," Kat interrupted. Crownguard was an idiot; Shakespeare wrote poetry, sure, but Romeo and Juliet was a _play_ for Christ's sake. Everyone knew that. The teacher had even _said_ that in class, so even if Crownguard hadn't read it, if he'd been paying attention, he'd have known at least that much.

"I... Right, sorry. I mispoke," Garen said, clearing his throat. Kat noticed the tips of his ears darkening in color and was amused to realize that he was embarrassed by his mistake. The former football star, a student perceived by the rest of the student body to be one of the most attractive and dashing young men at school—and he was the type of guy who was easily embarrassed. Even worse, the type of guy whose ears turned red when embarrassed. An endearing trait, really, on the burly teenager. Oh, this was hilarious.

"Well, as I was saying, it's... this kind of writing, this... older language... is complicated to understand."

"Who cares? Everyone knows the plot, it's not like you actually need to read the damn thing," Kat said, the sides of her lips quirking upwards at his horrified reaction to her words.

"Of _course_ you need to read it!" he said, his eyebrows drawn together. "It's one thing to know the general idea, but a whole different story when you actually... read the story."

She snorted. "You're good with words," she said sarcastically. His ears turned another shade darker, and Katarina found herself unable to keep her grin in check.

She had seriously misjudged Crownguard—he was _way_ more fun to mess with than she'd anticipated. Definitely a goody-two-shoes type of guy, but way more gullible and innocent than she'd expected. What a treat.

"You know what I mean," he muttered. Then he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, and slowly released it, and Kat felt her heartbeat skip a beat as his eyes opened and he met her gaze with a suddenly calm, collected one in return. "As I had been saying previously, while I had some difficulty getting through the text, I was able to compile a short list of themes and character traits for each character from the first part of the play." He flipped through the notebook that had been on his desk until he found a page filled with notes and lists, written in a tiny but untidy scrawl. "As I see it, we can go through these and perhaps select a few that we seem interested in, and then we can look through the text on our second read-through and keep those in mind, and mark passages related to them. Then..."

And on and on he droned. Boy, this guy had every step of the project mapped out, though he was missing the specifics. Katarina began shaking her pencil back and forth between her fingers out of sheer boredom, and eventually resolved to drawing lewd images on her own desk with her pencil before erasing the drawings off the wood. It was only when she heard her name that she looked up, away from a particularly hairy drawing, and noticed Garen frowning at her.

"You know, this _is_ a joint project," he stated."That means we ought to be splitting the work evenly between the two of us."

Kat sighed and began twirling the pencil in her hand. "Seems to me like you've got it all under control."

"Katarina, you cannot dump all of the work on me. You have to do your part, too."

Like hell she had to. She'd always managed to avoid doing her part in group projects before, and she wasn't about to change that, now. She wasn't about to change her ways any time soon—especially not for Garen Crownguard.

"How about this, then," Kat said. "You do the research and outline, and I'll write the paper."

"I don't think so," he said, his voice lowering in pitch. "We will share the work—both the research and the writing."

Katarina thought about arguing with this annoyingly stubborn teenage classmate, and decided it wasn't worth it. So she'd have to actually put in a bit of effort for once—big deal. English had always been an easy subject for her; she could write her ten page essays an hour before they were due and still receive a passing grade. So this? This would be a walk in the park. Especially with the teacher, who was old enough to suspect that her family was tied to Noxus.

Nobody got on Noxus' bad side unless they had a death wish. Like those fucking Demacians. The problem with them, of course, was that—unlike normal citizens—they had public support and, likely, government support, as well. That's not to say Noxus wasn't able to influence politicians and the government; but if her father was right, Garen Crownguard's father, the police chief, was providing direct support to the vigilante gang, both in the ways of funds and equipment. And, according to Leblanc and her network—which, really, Katarina was never sure could be entirely trusted—there was a distinct possibility that he not only supported it, but was also a member of the group, as well.

Katarina couldn't believe that Garen knew about his father's involvement in the vigilante gang. This was the guy who had quit his promising football career to _focus on his studies_. This was a guy who refused to let other people copy off his homework, refused to run in the hallways, who was never late to class and who always turned in his assignments on time. He never broke any rules, if the rumors were true (and from what Katarina had seen, being in the same school as him for 4 years, now, they were), then Garen was a goody-two-shoes, and there was no way Garen would support Demacia, a vigilante gang which conducted illegal activities.

Granted, perhaps one could argue it was a robin-hood sort of group. Didn't change the fact that the vigilante activities the gang engaged in were illegal, punishable by jail time. The one thing Demacia had going for it was that they never killed, not a single person, though there were the occasional mishaps.

Katarina would have snorted if she weren't in school. 'Mishaps'—there were no mishaps when it came to gangs. People died because someone _wanted_ them dead; people died because they were in the wrong place at the right time. Any figures Demacians had 'accidentally' killed had been those who were higher up in the ranks of Noxus, important people in High Command, the group of individuals who lead the crime syndicate. Like Sion; the businessman had been found dead in his home after a shootout with Demacians two years ago. He'd been known as an unstoppable force in the business world, and in the Noxian underground, he'd been known a ruthless and skilled fighter. Sion had been the only casualty on that night; convenient for Demacia.

And Garen Crownguard? He'd _never_ approve of murder. Even the thought was so ridiculous, Katarina had to smile.

"Fine," she acquiesced. Garen nodded. "We split the work."

He flipped the page on his notebook and tore out the subsequent one, then handed it to her. It was a copy of the one he had, and Kat made a face at the realization that he must have spent quite a bit of time writing out both pages.

"The schedule I've made is located near the bottom of the page," Garen said, leaning forward slightly over her desk and pointing. Katarina caught the scent of what might be pine before he leaned back in his seat. He smelled nice, she noted.

Katarina glanced over the schedule and contained a groan. She glanced up and met his serious expression with disbelief. "Seriously?" she asked, picking up the paper and waving it in his face. It helped convey her disbelief properly, to do that. " _Seriously_? Two hours a day, three days a week, and _four_ hours on weekends? Crownguard, this project is _not_ worth that much time."

"It is, though," Garen said, frowning at her. He gently pushed the hand holding the sheet of paper out of his face. "This essay is worth sixty percent of our grade. It counts as a replacement for the final exam, as well. Besides homework and pop quizzes, which account for only twenty percent of our final grade, this essay and the final exam are the only grades in this class. In other words, if we do well on this project, we do well on the final, and we therefore do well in the class.

Katarina let him push her hand away, and as she listened to his explanation, she let her hand return to the desk. She couldn't exactly argue with that logic... But she still didn't want to waste that much time on this stupid project.

"I'll meet twice a week," Katarina grumbled. "I have… dance lessons on Wednesdays, though, so I can't meet then." She wasn't lying, if one considered the dance of her blades to be a type of dancing. On Wednesdays, she had special training with her father, and she wasn't about to give it up for some stupid project.

"But Monday and Friday are fine with your schedule?" Garen asked, uncapping his pen and carefully marking the changes on his own schedule.

"Yes," Katarina muttered. She folded up her schedule and stuffed it into her pocket. Father wasn't going to be happy about this, but there wasn't any real way she could avoid it. She'd be unable to take certain missions for Noxus, now, given the time she'd have to dedicate to working on this damned project.

"Wonderful," Garen said, capping his pen and offering her a sincere smile that made his eyes crinkle at the edges, and Katarina realized that his eyes were a lighter blue than she'd originally thought. A shade of blue she couldn't quite tear her eyes from, until she realized she was staring and blinked.

"We'll meet tomorrow, then, at the downtown library?" Garen asked, and Kat reluctantly nodded.

"Yeah."

"All right," he replied. He opened his mouth to speak some more, but Katarina was spared from agreeing to doing any more work by the sound of the bell. Class was over—thank god.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then, Katarina," Garen said as they began gathering their things. Kat slung her backpack over her shoulder and gave him a once-over before smirking.

"See you tomorrow, Crownguard," she replied before walking away, navigating through the desks in the room, and out the door.

She had to admit, Katarina thought as she waded through the crowded hallways towards her locker, Garen Crownguard was... pretty handsome. That would make the time she'd have to spend with him a little more bearable, she hoped.

* * *

Katarina was beautiful, absolutely. In a purely aesthetic sort of way, Garen thought. Perhaps he had intentionally chosen an absurd number of hours for them to meet in part due to the realization that the two could get to know each other better. Perhaps it had been influenced, only slightly, by the fact that he thought she was... aesthetically pleasing. But it was only a small part, certainly.

Garen glanced at his watch. It was given to him by his father after his first mission; it had been given to his father by his own father, and to him by his. A tradition—to be passed down after the first successful mission. Garen had been sixteen at the time, and he had successfully apprehended three Noxian targets. His father, the police chief and one of the highest ranking officers of Demacia, was proud of his achievements, and declared that Garen was sure to be one of the finest members Demacia had ever seen.

Time had passed, since then, and Garen had tried to live up to his father's expectations. He'd made a name for himself among his fellow Demacians; they called him the Might of Demacia, for the strength with which he swung his trusty baseball bat, his signature weapon. He didn't dislike the name, but he wished he could have something cooler.

Lux, for instance, was known as the Lady of Luminosity. Garen wasn't exactly too sure on the specifics, but any time she hacked something, she apparently left some sort of signature with that title. Once the authorities had caught on, and the media caught wind of it, that was the name that she came to be known by. Garen had asked her why she chose that name, and she had shrugged.

"It sounds cool," she said by way of explanation. And he had to admit, it did have a nice ring to it. Not that his moniker didn't—he just felt that his title was a little... bland, by comparison. _Oh, well_ , Garen thought. He was stuck with what he had. With a sigh, he glanced up from his watch towards the entrance to the library.

Katarina DuCouteau was late. Not extraordinarily late—she was only five minutes late, for now, though Garen had thee sinking suspicion that she might have blown him off.

Not that this was a date, of course, Garen found himself thinking. He felt his face warm up and his ears heat at the thought, and he tugged uncomfortably at one earlobe. This was not a _date_. It was a study session, an appointment, a study... date. Not a _date_ date. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

Garen was not attracted to Katarina DuCouteau. Of this, he was determinedly sure. And that was the last he would even consider of the notion. He forced his thoughts back to the time, and glanced at his watch again. Only a minute had passed. He shifted in his chair, stretching out his long legs and leaning back in his chair, arms outstretched, in an attempt to relieve some of his restlessness.

"If you're not, careful, you might fall," a voice from behind him cautioned, and Garen very nearly lost his balance as he recognized it.

"K-Katarina!" Garen said, standing up and turning around to face her. "I didn't see you arrive."

Katarina swept her long hair over one shoulder and quirked an eyebrow—the one with the scar that stretched over her eye and onto her cheek. She was wearing dark jeans and a tight fitting black shirt, over which she wore the same jacket Garen usually saw her wear to class. He supposed it was a favorite. She had her backpack slung over one shoulder. He caught himself staring at her outfit and quickly re-adjusted his gaze so that he was looking at her face instead of... other places.

"I slipped in through the side door," Katarina said, walking around the table, dumping her backpack on the table, and sitting in the chair across from him. Garen had chosen this table because it was in sight of the front, where he assumed she'd enter from. He'd been wrong in that assumption, it seemed.

"Ah. Well, I'm glad to see you, Katarina. Thank you for coming." He couldn't help but feel relieved that his earlier fears about her not showing up had been unfounded. He lowered himself back onto his own chair and then carefully picked up the stacks of paper he had in front of him and shuffled through them.

Katarina seemed less than pleased at the sight, if her grimace was any indication. "The hell is that?" she asked.

Garen frowned at her and gave her what he hoped was a stern look. "Katarina, that sort of language is not appropriate in a library." He pointed to his right, towards the picture books section which was located nearby. "There are children present."

Katarina snorted and rolled her eyes, smirking. "Is 'hell' a bad word? Am I going to spoil their innocence by saying 'hell'?"

Garen frowned at the mocking tone, and he met her green eyes. She seemed... bored. He didn't know how he knew that—only that he was certain it was true. Perhaps she was picking a fight with him to alleviate that boredom. But Garen would not have it.

"I simply mean that some parents would prefer not to have their children repeat such phrases, so it is our responsibility to respect their wish."

Katarina quirked her eyebrow, but didn't make any more snarky comments, for which Garen was grateful. He cleared his throat and rustled his papers once more, and the smirk vanished instantly off of her face, replaced with a scowl.

"I've compiled a list of several resources and books that we ought to look into before we begin our essay," he said. Well, he'd compiled most of it; Lux had seen him working and enthusiastically offered a list of some of the websites and books she liked to use, so he'd included those, as well. "These are mostly short essays which analyze the play, and some are reference texts, and there are a few texts which can help provide historical context and the like."

Katarina groaned. "And you want us to read... everything on the list?"

"That is my hope, yes," Garen replied. "Though I'm not sure of the length of every text. So once we've gathered some, we can then divide them between us so that each one of us will read roughly the same amount."

Katarina let out another groan, and shook her head. "You're crazy, Crownguard." She leaned across the desk and pointed at the stack of papers in his hands. "You know, we've only got to read a few of those. Two, three? The paper's fifteen pages—we don't need a crapton of texts for that."

"Language!" Garen chided.

"I don't give a flying fuck, Crownguard. You're insane, you know that? I'm not reading a hundred books for this damned project!" she said. Though her language was even worse than it had been, she had switched to a whisper, so Garen took that as some sort of consolation. At least the children wouldn't hear her speaking those inappropriate words.

"Katarina, I must insist that we look at these texts for the sake of our grades—"

"I'm not reading all of those!"

"You won't have to," Garen said. Perhaps she had misunderstood the first time he'd explained. "You'll only be reading half of them—"

"Like hell I'm reading even half of that stack. I've got a _life_ , Crownguard!" Her glare was icy. "I have other things to do besides read all day."

Garen frowned, and tried to school his features into a mask of impassivity. Inside, he felt his heart constricting in anger, and outrage. _She_ had a life? Was she insinuating that he did not? Because out of the two of them, he most definitely had a far busier plate than she did. He was a straight-A student, and he was an active member of Demacia. Every night, he patrolled the streets, fought with Noxians, captured them, turned them in to his father; he ran from the police and Noxians alike in order to keep his identity a secret. During the day, he attended school, he took diligent notes, went home and hurried through his homework, then prepared dinner for himself and his sister, Lux. If he was lucky, he'd have enough time to watch a movie or watch some football, but rare was the day when he had any free time. His weekends were spent planning attacks on Noxus, working on homework, and sleeping.

Perhaps she was right, whispered some part of his brain. What he was doing—it wasn't _living_. He'd given up football for Demacia; Jarvan was the only friend he had; he'd never been out on a date with a girl. Perhaps she was right—and that made Garen all the angrier.

"I have other things, too. I don't like reading, Katarina—it's one of my least favorite activities. But I refuse to fail this class because of your unwillingness to participate in and contribute to this project."

"We don't need to read that many damn books," Katarina spat, "We only need to read a handful of them. And you don't even need to read the entire thing—just skim it for the important shit."

"Katarina, please, listen to me," Garen said, leaning forward, his hands placed on the table. "You are going to help me with this project."

She leaned forward even farther, until they were mere inches apart, and her brilliant green eyes narrowed, so close that he could feel her warm breath on his lips when she said, "And what if I don't want to?"

He felt his blood pound in his ears, felt his pulse quicken, and he narrowed his own eyes. Then he took a deep breath, ignoring the scent of what might be cinnamon on her as he leaned back. This time, it was his turn to smirk.

"Then we'll both fail."

Katarina's brow furrowed, and she drew back slightly. He leaned forward once more. "If you don't agree to my terms, then I will not help you with the project."

She smirked. "Like I need your help."

"You do. Mr. Blitzcrank has pop quizzes, and each quiz will have a question at the end of it: 'How is your group project coming along?' And I will answer: 'Katarina is making me do all of the work.'"

"I'll still turn in an essay at the end, and we'll pass," Katarina said, though her smirk had vanished.

"No. _I_ will pass, and you will fail, because Mr. Blitzcrank doesn't like you." At her scowl, it was his turn to smirk. "But he likes me. And he'll believe me."

"Are you actually threatening me, Crownguard?"

"No," he replied. "I'm telling you what will happen if you refuse to contribute your fair share to this project."

"That's an _outrageous_ amount of books to read!" Katarina said. She was seething—her eyes were burning, and her fists were clenched, and for a brief moment, Garen was reminded of the fear he'd felt the previous night, when he'd fought the two Noxian assailants. She took a deep breath, then exhaled. "Half. We read half of those books, not all of them."

Garen considered the bargain. It was not ideal to only have half of the reading materials... But if it would pacify her...

"All right," Garen said. He retrieved his pen from his shirt pocket and clicked it, then rapidly began crossing out names on the sheets of paper. Once he'd eliminated exactly fifty texts from the list, he nodded.

"Fifty," Katarina groaned. So she'd counted. "There are fifty left?" He nodded. "Fuck you, Crownguard," she muttered as she swiped the list from his hands and stalked towards the aisles of books. "Watch my stuff," she called over her shoulder, much to the chagrin of the librarians.

Garen offered the librarians an apologetic smile, and then let out a sigh of relief, sinking back into his chair and running his hands through his hair. Katarina DuCouteau was a handful, and Garen was sure she'd only relented so quickly because she didn't want to deal with his stubbornness any longer, not out of fear of receiving a bad grade.

It was rumored the DuCouteau family had long been involved with Noxus. They were old money, and they didn't work—yet they seemed to still have a source of income. His father didn't trust them, and according to hospital records, the scar Katarina bore on her left eye was the result of an attempted stabbing. He ought to be scared of her...

But there was something about her that made it hard for Garen to stop thinking about her intense emerald eyes.

* * *

A/N: And that's the first chapter. I'd originally intended for each chapter to be ~5k words, but this one went a little longer, since it's setting things up and doing a lot of intro stuff. I've been working pretty hard on this story, but since the chapters are of a longer length than I'm used to, I can't promise consistent updates, especially with classes starting in the Fall. It'll be my last year at college, hopefully, though, so perhaps after that I'll be able to write more often than I do currently. As for now, however, it's summer! So I can promise weekly updates until school starts up again, at the very least! Hope you enjoyed, and see you soon. Also, I'll be upfront, since some people are a little sensitive about this: there's probably going to be a side of Talon/Lux going on. And by probably, I mean definitely.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

* * *

"So he's got you on a leash," Talon chuckled as he wiped his blades clean of blood. He was efficient in his movements, as though he had done it a thousand times before. He probably had.

"I'm _not_ on a leash," Kat replied with a grunt as she pulled her dagger from a dead man's chest; he'd been running, so she'd had to throw it. If the man hadn't been out of reach, she could have slit his throat; a much more efficient way to kill a man, and less painful. More mess, sure, but almost instant. A knife to the back was slower, more painful; the only good part was that there was less blood.

"He's got you reading how many books again?" Cassiopeia tittered as she holstered her gun.

"Twenty five," she grumbled. "But they're not all books. Some are short essays, and some are… reference texts, is what he called them."

"Sounds like way too much reading, to me," Talon laughed, and Katarina spun around, drew near to him, and shoved him. He was ready for it, though, and with his feet squarely planted on the floor, he barely moved an inch.

"Someone's angry."

"Shut it, or we'll see how far I can shove this up your ass," she hissed, prodding him with the end of her bloodied dagger. It was an empty threat, and he knew it. Talon snorted in distaste at the stain she'd made, and tossed her the cloth he'd been using to clean his blades. She caught it and scowled as she began to clean her own dagger, the cloth coming away crimson.

"We'd better leave soon," Cassiopeia said, moving towards the window and peeking out from between the blinds. "There isn't much traffic on the streets yet, but it's almost six. If we leave now, we might even be able to catch an hour or two of beauty sleep before school."

"I wish Dad would let us skip," Kat grumbled. She inspected her blade—clean of blood. She tossed the cloth back towards Talon, who pocketed it. Why he put the bloody cloth in his pocket, she didn't know, and she didn't really want to. Talon was strange, sometimes.

"He wants his children to be educated," Talon said with a grin. "Though you have me to thank for public school."

Katarina snorted. Once her father had adopted Talon, he'd pulled his two daughters out of private school and forced them to join the oh-so-wonderful public school system. When the then seven year-old Katarina had thrown a tantrum, her father had pulled her aside and calmly explained that it was to help make Talon feel like less of an outsider, like a part of the family. He'd come from poverty, and all he knew was public school and services that were provided for free. But it had given the boy a way of handling life, an outlook, that her father wanted his daughters to share in. Katarina had hated it, at first. The lunches were terrible, and she had few friends. But Cassiopeia had loved it, and eventually, Katarina had gotten used to it. She wouldn't say she _liked_ it, but she tolerated it.

The three of them made their way out of the house and into the car waiting for them. Leblanc sat patiently in the driver's seat, dressed in a dark business suit and wearing a purple scarf around her neck. Once they'd closed the door, she adjusted the mirror until she met Katarina's gaze.

"Was the mission a success?" Leblanc asked, though she knew the answer by their safe and silent return.

"It's done," Katarina replied tersely. "Take us home."

"Or course," Leblanc replied, and Kat noticed the hint of a smile playing on the woman's lips. The ride was silent—uncomfortably so. When Leblanc pulled up to the DuCouteau mansion, she met Katarina's gaze in the rearview mirror once more. "You make your father proud," she said.

Katarina narrowed her eyes. "I hope so," she replied before exiting the car and marching up the steps to the front door, angled so that she always had an eye on Leblanc, who smirked at them from the car. As she shifted the car out of park and began to leave, Leblanc raised her eyebrows ever so slightly and offered a smile and a small wave before turning and driving away.

Some of the tension that had been in her for the entire car ride left Kat in a huff. "I hate that woman," Katarina muttered. "I can never figure out what she's thinking."

"I feel the same way," Cassiopeia admitted, a frown on her face. "Something about her just... sets me on edge."

"I don't like her, either," Talon admitted. He produced the keys to the front door from his pocket and unlocked it, letting Katarina and Cassiopeia in first before he closed the door behind them.

They headed for their father's study, where he would be waiting for their debriefing. Despite the late hour, Marcus DuCouteau made it his business to always be awake when she, Cass or Talon returned from a mission, in order to ensure they gave him a full report of what had transpired, and to ensure that they had returned safely and in one piece.

Katarina knocked on the door, as she always did. Her father thought it rude to enter a room without knocking if one respected the person on the other side of the door. And Katarina had nothing but respect for her father. She waited for his voice to call "Enter!" as he usually did.

It was unusual for her father not to respond immediately when she knocked. Talon moved to stand beside her, shifting from the balls of his feet to his heels, then rebalancing himself in his anxiousness. To her left, Cassiopeia's gaze narrowed. The three siblings shared a glance, and she knocked again.

"Dad, it's us," she said. Nothing. Not a sound. She drew her blades and narrowed her eyes as Talon did the same, and Cassiopeia drew her pistol and unlocked the safety. Talon took the handle in his hand and held up three fingers.

Two...one...

Talon swung the door open and raced inside, Katarina at his heels, and they quickly surveyed the study.

Papers littered the floor, and the books that had lined the shelves had been knocked to the ground. The lamp in the corner of the room had been smashed and lay across the floor, the glass from its lightbulb glittering on the floor. The wooden chairs in the room had been turned over and their legs broken. The armchair in the corner of the room had been slashed, and the stuffing was tossed haphazardly across the room. Their father's chair, fine leather, as old as the estate itself, had been slashed and upturned. His computer had been completely smashed to bits, as well as the monitor. The pictures that had sat on his desk had been knocked to the ground, and their family picture was torn and lay trampled on the carpet floor, ripped down the center, though not cleanly apart.

The room was empty.

Kat kneeled, taking the ripped picture into her hands and stuffing it into her backpack. She turned and beckoned her siblings to follow.

"Whoever did this might still be here," she said. "We need to clear the mansion." Cassiopeia and Talon nodded; they were all shocked by what they had seen, but their training kicked in, and they knew they needed to clear the perimeter before they did anything else.

They cleared every room of the mansion, only to find it devoid of anyone. The garage, too, was empty, as were the gardens. That in itself wasn't unusual, as the servants left after seven and arrived at eight in the morning. But it meant that whoever had been here was long gone. By the time they'd finished their search, the sun had risen, and it was approaching the hour at which they would usually leave to attend school.

Katarina swallowed, hard. "The place might be bugged," she said softly.

"Safe house?" Cassiopeia suggested, and Kat nodded.

The DuCouteaus had several safe houses in the city, as well as several located throughout the country, and a fair few overseas. It was possible that their father had retreated to one of them. He hadn't left any message for them that she could see, but perhaps there hadn't been time to.

They opted to walk to the nearest safe house. Driving would have been faster, of course, but if their father's study had been compromised, it was entirely within the realm of possibility that their cars might have been, too. If it was the feds, then the cars might be bugged, as well, and driving it would reveal the location of the safe house. While they could check for bugs, it was time they could spend searching for their father instead.

Katarina was worried—no, worried was too small a word; scared was more accurate—but she forced herself to appear calm. She couldn't show her brother and sister how fearful she was for their father's safety, or else they might lose hope. As it was, Katarina herself was clinging desperately to the hope that their father was fine, that he was taking refuge in one of their many safe houses.

Of course, even that hope came with its own set of worries; if he was hiding, who was he hiding from? Should they be hiding, too? Were they headed into a trap?

Katarina hoped not, but that was about as much as she could do—hope. They reached the closest safe house within the hour, a nondescript, windowless building surrounded by a tall, metal fence. The front gate was padlocked, but all of the siblings had a key for it; Talon used his to open the way, and they locked the gate behind them.

They walked to the front door, and Katarina took a deep breath. Then, she knocked.

It was silent, and Katarina felt the horrible sense of reliving that moment an hour ago, when she had knocked before, only to find the study trashed. With bated breath, they waited a whole minute before Katarina knocked once more, this time louder.

Katarina thought she saw something through the peephole, but it was too fast for her to be sure. At least, until she heard locks being undone from the other side of the door. The door opened, and she was greeted with the sight of her father.

Marcus DuCouteau bore a bruise under his right eye, and a scratch on his forehead. His lip had been split, and his hair had dried blood caked in it. His clothes, however, seemed clean, and Katarina could only assume that he'd changed into some spares once he had arrived at the safe house.

He beckoned them inside, and they hurried through the door. Once they were in, he locked several locks, and led them further into the building, to what served as a living room.

Kat finally found her voice. "Dad, what happened?" she asked.

He sat upon one of the armchairs in the room, and gestured for his children to do the same. Once they'd taken their seats, he ran a hand down his face, heaving a great sigh.

"While you were gone," he began, his voice low, and tired, "I left the study to fix myself a snack. A few minutes later, I heard noise from the study, so I went to see what it was. When I entered, I was attacked by the man who was tearing up the room."

"Who was he?" Talon asked.

Their father shook his head. "I don't know. He didn't say a word. I managed to apprehend him, and I brought him here. But..." He sighed. "He must have had some sort of poison on him. He's dead. I got rid of the body, so I don't know exactly what poison he used."

"He committed suicide?" Cassiopeia asked, her eyes narrowed.

Her father nodded. He reached into his shirt pocket and produced a folded piece of paper. "This was the only noteworthy item on him." He handed the paper to Katarina, who took hold of it warily and carefully unfolded it before reading it aloud to her siblings.

"'Take care, Marcus,'" Kat read, "'You don't want more enemies.'" She glanced up and met her father's gaze.

"It's directly addressed to you," Cassiopeia murmured. "Whoever wrote it knew you would be able to find it."

"They sent the man in knowing I would either kill him, or catch him, yes," Marcus said, and Katarina returned the letter to his outstretched hand. "Whoever they are, they know of my particular... skillset."

"It's a threat," Talon said.

"Clearly," Cass replied, rolling her eyes. "But it's also a warning." She crossed her arms. "A warning to stop whatever it is you're doing that they don't want you doing." The question was left unspoken, but it hung in the room, stifling.

"I have a good idea what that might be," Marcus said quietly.

"Are you going to tell us?" Kat asked softly, her tone matching their father's.

He sighed. "I don't want to bring you three into this."

Kat snorted. "We're here—we're already involved."

"Not to mention, we're involved simply by our relation to you," Cass said.

Marcus closed his eyes, seeming to consider his words, then nodded. "All right, I'll tell you... a little bit. I don't really know much, myself, yet." He opened his eyes and looked at each of them in turn. "I've been investigating the deaths of Noxus' former leaders. They weren't killed by Demacians."

Katarina's eyes widened, and beside her, Cass took a quick breath, and Talon stiffened.

"The Demacians were framed for it. And some were paid handsomely to cooperate with the investigations into the Darkwills' deaths. But there was more," he told them. "Someone orchestrated their deaths, and it wasn't the feds. From what I've been able to gather, the ones behind this call themselves the Black Rose."

"The Black Rose," Kat repeated.

"The only problem is, there's no proof they exist. It's all hearsay and circumstantial evidence. Nothing definite. I've been trying to find out more about this Black Rose group, but I've been doing it without letting Noxus catch wind of my actions."

"Why?" Kat asked. "High Command have the resources to help you—"

"It's obvious," Cass interrupted. "These Black Rose people kill Boram and Keiran, the former leaders of Noxus. Who benefits from this?" Cassiopeia narrowed her eyes. "Only those in High Command benefit from it—particularly those who rose in power."

Things clicked, finally, for Katarina, and she turned to face her father. "You think Swain is behind this?"

He sighed. "I don't know," he admitted, "but it's a strong possibility."

Katarina was quiet, for a while. "So what?" she asked, and they all looked at her. "So what if he killed them? That's how Noxus works—the strong survive."

Marcus stood. "That's true, Kat," he said, then began pacing. "However, Darkwill was one of the only men I could trust in High Command. With him and his successor gone, I am the only one left who once fully supported his leadership. That puts me in a dangerous position. If I'm seen as a threat, that puts me and my entire family at risk." He stopped pacing and met her eyes once more. "I won't let them hurt you. Any of you."

Katarina was silent. It felt as though he wasn't telling them everything. Cassiopeia subtly glanced her way, and the sisters shared a look that told Katarina that Cass was thinking the same thing—that their father wasn't being entirely honest with them.

"Well, I'm glad you're safe, Dad," Cass said, abruptly changing the subject. She stood and walked to Marcus, and threw her arms around him in a hug. "I love you."

He wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to the top of his daughter's head. "I love you, too." He said softly.

Katarina was moving towards him before she realized she had even taken a step forward, and soon she was embracing him as well. After a bit of hesitation, Talon joined in.

Marcus hugged them all, and though he did not say anything, the way his arms tightened around them, and the way he pressed his lips atop her head, told Kat everything she needed to know before he drew back and dropped his arms.

He glanced at the clock that sat upon the wall, then nodded. "It's almost seven thirty. You three need to get ready."

Katarina blinked, then felt her jaw drop as she realized what her father meant. "Dad, you can't be serious," she said.

He turned and offered her a stern gaze. "You three are going to school. You will act as if nothing unusual has happened, as if you know nothing of these events. And once you get home, you will meet me in my study. Tell no one what I've shared with you; it would put a target on your back. Am I making myself clear?"

He didn't get to do this to them, make them pretend everything was okay while he could possibly be killed, while an unknown group was after him. It wasn't fair. Katarina curled her fingers into fists and grit her teeth, but a pacifying hand on her shoulder stayed her from saying any rash words.

"Yes, Dad," Cassiopeia said, her hand tightening on Katarina's shoulder. Kat glared at her sister before meeting her father's gaze and nodding.

"Good. If you hurry, you'll make it before the bell rings," their father said.

Katarina shrugged her sister's hand off of her shoulder. "After school, you'll tell us everything?" she asked her father, who met her gaze with an emotion behind his eyes that she couldn't quite read.

"Everything," he agreed softly with a nod.

The siblings made to leave, but Katarina lagged behind her brother and sister, fiddling with the zipper on her backpack. Her father was well aware that her actions were merely stalling for time, and he waited patiently until her siblings were out of earshot, in the other room.

"We're not dressed for school," Kat mumbled as she finally let the zipper go. She shrugged it onto one arm, letting it hang off of her shoulder. "We have bloody knives and used guns on us."

"It's not ideal," her father said, approaching her.

Kat narrowed her eyes. "Ideal?" she said, seething. "Nothing about this is _ideal_. You were attacked and threatened, and you want us to just pretend like it didn't happen. To go to school and act like normal kids, to… To pretend like…" She couldn't finish her sentence aloud. _Pretend like you're not in danger of getting killed._ She was scared, she realized as the chilling thought ran through her mind. She was scared. It had been years since she'd felt fear for the life of someone she loved, and it had never been so intense. She was scared, and she didn't know what to do about it. She _couldn't_ do anything about it.

Her father sighed. "I know. And I'm sorry it has to be like this." He frowned. "Kat," he said. "I need to ask you something. I wanted to ask you last night, but Swain was there, and this needs to stay between us."

Kat eyed her father, who had crossed his arms—something he only did when he was worried. "What?" she asked.

"During the mission at the Westside building… you retrieved a briefcase, correct?"

Kat nodded. That was the mission where the Demacian had shot her, and the thought made her feel both furious at and disappointed in herself. Talon had retrieved the briefcase, not her; she had been unconscious. She'd only managed to distract the Demacians, and that was a fact that she resented. She'd performed poorly. "Yes," she answered. "Talon grabbed it."

He nodded. "Was there anything else?"

Kat frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Were the Demacians carrying anything else?"

Kat recalled the fight, racking her brain for images and information. "The big one had two tranquilizers and a baseball bat. The other one—"

"Not weapons," her father interrupted, and his tone was urgent. Almost desperate, Kat thought. "Had they taken anything from the safe? Anything besides the briefcase?"

Kat shook her head, confusion evident on her features in the way her frown had deepened and her brow was lined. "I thought the briefcase was the only thing in the safe," she said. "I didn't see anything. Was there something else in there?"

Her father's shoulders slumped, and he tilted his head back slightly as a smile slowly grew on his lips. "No," he said, closing his eyes and sighing. "No, there wasn't." He opened his eyes, giving Kat little time to wonder at her father's odd behavior before he spoke once more. "Kat, I want to tell you this now. I may not get the chance later." He placed his arm on her shoulder, and his grip was firm, but not painful, and he looked deep into his daughter's eyes.

"I'm proud of you," he told her. "I'm proud of the woman you've become. You're strong, fast, intelligent… and you're a leader. I have faith that you will be able to lead House DuCouteau in my stead one day."

"Dad—" she said, wanting to tell him to stop, to not say those kinds of things, but he continued speaking.

"I believe in you and your judgment. Your sister and your brother—I'm proud of them, too. But when I'm gone, they will turn to you for leadership, for guidance. Protect them, Kat. Promise me that no matter what, you will protect them."

She wanted to tell him no, she wouldn't make such a promise, because he wouldn't be dying anytime soon. But the fact that he was telling her this, when he never had before… Kat realized that he was scared, too. For himself, for her, for her sister and her brother. And Kat had never spoken with such conviction before in her entire life as she did then.

"I swear it," she promised, and he looked into her eyes and saw her confidence, her assertiveness, her dedication. She wouldn't fail him. She wouldn't allow herself to fail.

"I trust you," he said quietly, offering her a small smile that didn't meet his eyes. He took a deep breath, and then squeezed her shoulder once before letting go, and Kat felt the absence of his hand as its warmth vanished, leaving her shoulder feeling cold and bare, and she felt unbidden tears begin to swell behind her own eyes.

"Dad—" she said, but he interrupted her.

"You need to get going," he said. "Cass and Talon are waiting."

Kat glanced at the door to the adjacent room, then back towards her father. She bit back her tears, forcing herself to swallow all of her emotions, to wear a mask of impassivity as her father had taught her to. She had never been as good at it as her siblings; Cassiopeia could hide her emotions effortlessly, and Talon hid his behind a scowl. Kat made do with a grimace, and she blinked back her tears.

She nodded at her father. "See you later," she said with a desperate sort of hope that if she said it, it would be true, that they would return from school to find their father safe and sound, untouched; but she wasn't able to say it without her voice breaking. Her father's own mask broke for just a moment, and the look of pain that crossed his face was one that would haunt Kat's nightmares for years to come. But then his mask was back, and he nodded, his eyes stern and his mouth thin.

"Of course," he said.

* * *

"Did you read the essays?" Garen asked.

Katarina glanced at him and shook her head, foregoing one of her usual snarky remarks that he'd come to expect from her. She had dark circles under her eyes, and she blinked frequently. She stifled a yawn; obviously, she'd been up late last night. He hoped she'd managed to get at least a little bit of sleep.

"You ought to get a good night's rest," he cautioned, "It's detrimental to your well being and your grades to not get a full eight hours of sleep."

Katarina glared at him from heavy lidded eyes. "I was busy," she grumbled, breaking their eye contact and placing her pencil on her desk. She began to draw on it, and Garen was horrified.

"Katarina, you can't do that!" he breathed.

Katarina rolled her eyes, then waved the pencil in his direction, the eraser closest to him. "I can erase it, you fucking dumbass."

Garen bit his tongue at the retort that almost left his lips. No, he would remain calm, and he would behave like a mature adult, regardless of the hurt that he felt. "That was rude, Katarina."

She closed her eyes and let out a sigh, then crossed her arms on the table and plunked her head upon them. "Look, I didn't mean it," she mumbled, he voice muffled. "I'm just... on edge."

That was... probably as close as he'd be getting to an apology from her. He got the sense that she wasn't one to apologize often, even when she realized she was in the wrong. Garen couldn't see her face under the red hair sprawled across the desk, but he could imagine that her eyes were still closed. He scooted his chair a little closer, then bent over, trying to catch a glimpse of her. "Are you trying to take a nap?" he asked, unsuccessful in his attempts to spy her through her barrier of hair.

" _Trying_ ," came her muffled voice. "But _someone's_ not letting me." He reached out and, hesitantly, took a small piece of her hair and swept it aside, revealing a brilliant green eye glaring at him.

"I don't think Mr. Blitzcrank will let you sleep during this time," Garen admitted. "We're supposed to be working on our project."

"Crownguard," Kat muttered, "let go of my hair."

Garen swallowed. "Of-of course!" he stammered, dropping the locks of hair in his hand as though burned. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." he trailed off as he noticed her shoulders shaking, and for a moment, he thought that, for whatever reason, he'd somehow managed to make her cry.

But then she lifted her head off the desk, and swept the hair out of her eyes, and her eyes were crinkled at the edges, and Garen's heart fluttered in his chest as he saw the first genuine smile on Katarina's face.

"You are so... what's the word... the one for knights?"

Garen's brow furrowed. "Uhhh..." he let out. "What do you—"

"Code of honor shit—that's you," Kat said, clarifying nothing with that awful explanation as she waved her hand aimlessly.

Garen racked his brains until he _thought_ he had figured out what she meant. "Chivalrous?" he asked, and Kat snapped her fingers.

"That's the word!" she said, shaking her head, still smiling. "You're so damned chivalrous, you know that?"

Garen's ears reddened. "I... was touching your hair without your permission. That has less to do with me honoring some sort of code than with me failing to respect you and your boundaries." He inclined his head. "For that, I'm sorry."

When he lifted his eyes, Kat wore a bemused sort of expression. "Huh," was all she said as she continued to watch him.

Garen cleared his throat and looked away, staring intently at his notebook so that he wouldn't stare at her. He flipped to the notes he had taken the previous night as he tapped his pen against the desk, a nervous tick. "I read the essays I checked out from the library and took some notes down. One of them says that the undertones of classism..."

He continued to summarize the essays he had read and, to his surprise, Kat actually took notes on what he said (well, if jotting down one word for every ten sentences he spoke counted as _notes_ ). Perhaps they'd come to an unspoken truce, of sorts. He would be more aware of her boundaries, and she would be more cooperative, it seemed.

"Who'd have thought there were homosexual undertones in Romeo and Juliet," Kat muttered after Garen had finished summarizing one particular essay, and Garen had to chuckle.

"Another author likened it to, what was it... a 'pinnacle of heteronormativity'," he said, "so perhaps that's up to how you interpret it."

"Heteronorm..." Katarina mumbled, "Why do essays always have to use such stupid vocab. Pisses me off."

Garen felt himself grinning, despite her language. "Perhaps academics feel the need to promote their intelligence trough the expounding of their sophisticated vernacular."

" _Vernacular_ ," Katarina muttered," Now _you're_ the one using big words and pissing me off."

Garen grinned. "Only as a joke," he said. "And to be honest, that was a terrible sentence."

Katarina snorted. "Well, your humor falls a little short," she told him.

"That's because I'm not trying to be funny," Garen teased. "If I were trying to be funny, you would laugh. I _guaran_ tee it."

Katarina narrowed her eyes at the emphasis he placed on the two syllables of the word 'guarantee,' and Garen watched intently. Within the next second, her eyes widened just the slightest fraction, and then she forced a grimace onto her face—but Garen had caught a glimpse of the beginnings of a smile that had almost made itself known.

"Did you just make a fucking pun with your name?" Kat asked, and he grinned. She rolled her eyes in mock annoyance. Or, at least, what he hoped was mock annoyance.

He turned his attention back to the notes, and for the rest of the class, the pair discussed the ideas that the essays had brought up and topics they still wanted to consider. Katarina, surprisingly, had several creative ideas for topics, and Garen was impressed. Once class started nearing its end, Garen went over their plans for their next study session after school.

"So, we meet tomorrow for an extra hour at the downtown library," Garen said, double checking the schedule just to be sure.

It was five minutes until the bell rang, but Katarina was already packing her bags and readying to leave. "Uh-huh," was all she managed.

"Uhhh... Perhaps we ought to... exchange emails or... or something of that nature," Garen said hurriedly, feeling his ears turning the same shade as Katarina's hair when she looked at him. "In case we need to contact one another. In case something comes up." He hoped he didn't sound desperate, even though that was how he felt. He wanted her phone number, but he didn't want to come off the wrong way. Not that these study dates were real dates, or anything, he reminded himself to no avail.

Katarina wore that same look from earlier, the one he couldn't quite read, as though she were looking past his eyes and into his heart. And then she smirked and tore off the bottom corner of one of the pages from his notebook. She leaned over the table and took his pen out of his shirt pocket, and perhaps he imagined the way her hand lingered just a little bit longer on his chest than necessary, before she drew back, clicked it, and scrawled something down. She leaned forward once more and tucked both into his shirt pocket, and Garen caught that scent of cinnamon once more that made his heart skip a beat. Her emerald eyes glinted at him as she patted his pocket once, and then the bell rang.

"Don't call me unless it's about the project, Crownguard," Katarina said as she gathered her things, stood and, still smirking, left the room.

Garen had to remind himself in the moments that followed that yes, he _could_ breathe.

* * *

Katarina's smirk fell from her lips the moment she was out of Garen's line of sight. While she did enjoy messing with him, since it was fun to see his ears turn red, she couldn't deny that today, when he had talked about respecting her and apologized for touching her hair... She wasn't sure how to describe the feeling that had swept through her and, for a moment, engulfed her. She'd felt her face grow slightly warm, had felt her heartbeat quicken... And when he'd asked for a means to reach her, she could have given him her email. He didn't need her number, and yet... it was an impulse, yes, but she'd _wanted_ him to have it. Not because she liked him, though she would grudgingly admit that he was handsome and smelled nice, like fresh pine. She'd felt a rush, one unfamiliar to her, when she'd taken his pen, and she'd felt him under her hand, his sharp intake of breath.

She shook her head, ridding herself of thoughts of Garen. They would see each other tomorrow, and hopefully she'd be able to sort out her confused emotions and thoughts then. But now, school was over, and that meant that she could go home and find out just what mess exactly her father was getting into.

Talon was waiting outside, leaning against the brick wall on the far side of the school building, as he always did. Usually, Talon would drive, and his convertible would be waiting in the parking lot. But not today. He was under the shade of an overhang, and he was chatting with a blonde girl Katarina didn't recognize. He seemed rather pleased by her presence, which was strange—Talon usually hated socializing with people, preferring to sit in the shadows and listen. As Kat approached, he let out a chuckle, and the blonde girl batted her eyelashes at him sweetly. Well, _that_ was sickening.

"Am I interrupting?" Kat said rather loudly, and the grin vanished off of Talon's face almost immediately, as though he'd been caught doing something he ought not be doing.

"Not at all!" the blonde girl said cheerily. She stretched out her hand, and Kat narrowed her eyes, waiting several moments before taking it. She was surprised by the girl's grip—impressed, even. She hadn't expected it to be so firm. "You must be Kat."

"Katarina," Kat corrected, sending a quick glare towards her brother, who had the grace to make an apologetic face. "Only my friends call me Kat."

"Oh, I'm sorry! Katarina, then," the blonde said, unfazed by Kat's hostility. "Talon's told me a lot about you."

"And yet I haven't heard a thing about you. What'd you say your name was?" Kat asked. The girl hadn't said her name, but the question didn't seem to faze the girl one bit.

The girl beamed. "I'm Luxanna Crownguard. Talon and I have gym class together!"

"Gym class," Kat managed weakly. _This_ was Luxanna Crownguard, Garen's younger sister, a prodigy who had skipped three grades so she could be in the same grade as her brother—and it was rumored she could have skipped more, had she wanted. She'd transferred from a private boarding school just this year; apparently she wanted to experience the life of public school before she graduated. She should have asked Kat before she'd done it; Kat would have told her it wasn't worth the downgrade to the shitty lunches.

Katarina had heard of her mostly through Cass, who made it her business to know everyone in school. She'd never met the girl before, and she hadn't realized Talon had, either. But apparently they knew one another, and from the way the Crownguard girl had been batting her eyelashes at Talon, it seemed like the girl wanted to get to know him even more.

"My brother mentioned that he was working on an English project with you," Lux said, and Kat nodded. "If you need any help with it, I'd be glad to lend a hand!"

"I think your brother's got everything under control," Kat said, not without a hint of snark.

Lux smiled a little sheepishly. "I'll be honest with you—my brother doesn't have the best ideas for a thesis. His grammar is definitely good, but as far as ideas go, well... Sometimes he's a little lacking, there."

Kat considered Lux's words. If what she was saying was true (and Kat wasn't entirely sure it was), then perhaps one of the reasons Garen was so focused on the research part of their essay was because he wasn't entirely sure how to do the _writing_ part.

"Is that why he's making us read a million essays? To get ideas for what to write?" Kat asked, and Lux shrugged.

"Probably," Lux said. She reached into her pocket and glanced at her phone, then turned to Talon, leaned on her tiptoes, and whispered something in his ear that made his face redden. Then she beamed at Katarina. "Time for me to head home! It was nice meeting you, Kat!"

Kat grumbled something about only her friends being allowed to call her 'Kat,' her eyes narrowed in annoyance. Lux waved as she skipped away towards the side of the school building, where an old, beat up blue pickup truck was waiting with Garen in the driver's seat.

Garen met Kat's gaze, and the two held it for a few moments before Garen broke the exchange and looked down for a moment. When he looked up, he grinned at her before he drove away.

She watched the old blue truck drive away until her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she didn't have to look to know who had just texted her. But she looked anyway, and rolled her eyes at the message.

 _See you tomorrow_ , it read.

Once she'd put her phone back in her pocket, Kat spun around and folded her arms, quirking her eyebrow towards her brother, who was doing his best to look anywhere but at her.

"I didn't know you had a thing for blondes," Kat teased.

"I... shut up," Talon muttered, his face slowly returning to its usual pale color, and Kat let out a short laugh. She'd been teasing, but apparently she'd hit the mark. "Where's Cass? We need to go check on Dad."

Kat shrugged. "Haven't seen her since lunch," she answered. But he was right—they needed to get back to the safe house. As her thoughts turned to her father, she quickly lost all mirth, and she frowned, her forehead furrowed in thought. Marcus hadn't told them everything, but what had he been so hesitant to share? Figuring out the answers to these kinds of questions wasn't Katarina's forte—that was Cassiopeia's area of expertise. Cass had a way with ferreting out answers and solving puzzles; where Katarina's skill lay in the way she used the sharp edge of a blade, Cassiopeia's lay in the way she used her sharp mind. It was why Leblanc had recently taken Cass under her wing and begun to teach her tactics and strategies the woman used to manipulate others in her daily work.

Cassiopeia hated it, hated working with a woman she trusted less than she could throw her—and that was saying something, since if Cass were to ever try to throw Leblanc, she probably wouldn't even be able to lift the woman. But when an esteemed and accomplished member of High Command offered to take you under their wing, it wasn't a request to be refused. And there was no doubt that Cassiopeia had been learning; she'd been able to get the info from the targets last night within seconds, thanks to the training she'd received from Leblanc. And she was a dead shot with a pistol, now; it was surprising, really, for Katarina. Cassiopeia had always preferred guns over blades, but her aim had never been so sure. Last night, she'd hardly glanced at the targets before shooting them through the center of their foreheads—three shots, in rapid succession, resulting in three very dead men. Katarina and Talon had taken care of the rest while Cass had searched the bodies for any useful information.

Kat's frown deepened. She'd never seen her sister so cold and indifferent to murder, before. Clearly, Leblanc's training methods had exposed Cassiopeia to far worse, and Kat suddenly realized that there was now a part of Cass she had never known, and perhaps never would know. She'd been training with Leblanc, a master of deceit; perhaps Cassiopeia was able to deceive them all, now. The thought was chilling, and Katarina wondered for the first time how much she could trust her sister.

And of course, Cassiopeia was the one to break her from her reverie with a quick greeting, having been let out of class a few minutes late.

"We should hurry back," Cassiopeia urged as she glanced at her phone. "The longer we wait, the more danger we put ourselves and father in."

Kat blinked and nodded in response, trying to read her sister. But all she could see was genuine worry on Cass's face. She let out a sigh of relief and chided herself for her lack of faith in her sister. No matter what, Cassiopeia was still a DuCouteau, and she was still Kat's baby sister, even if she'd matured without Kat noticing.

The siblings walked to the safe house as quickly as they could in the afternoon sun. Even at the brisk pace Katarina set, it still took them a little under half an hour to reach the small building.

But when they arrived, Katarina felt her stomach drop.

The gate was unlocked and swung wide open, for all to enter. The front door was hanging from its hinges, and Katarina's backpack nearly slid off from her shoulder in shock. She recovered quickly though, and immediately drew her concealed pistol, and her siblings did the same.

Kat ran to the door, then positioned herself so that her back was to the wall, and she waited for her brother and sister to take up positions beside her. They waited, and then Kat began a count in a low voice.

"Three," she began, and she raised her pistol. Beside her, Talon retrieved a spare dagger and spun it in his hand as the other raised his gun. On his other side, Cassiopeia raised two guns, one in each hand. "Two," Kat continued, and she unlocked the safety on her gun, as her siblings did the same. "One."

Katarina spun inside the doorway, gun raised and pointed, and began walking down the narrow hallway. She listened for any sound farther in, but all was silent save for the sound of her footsteps, her breathing, and her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

They reached the center of the building, where the hall opened into the living room. It was untouched. They went farther into the house, towards the sleeping quarters, and walked through the open doorway—and Katarina let her arms slacken at the sight.

There had obviously been a fight. What little furniture that had decorated the room had been upturned, and the cushions of the sofa had rips and tears in them; the stuffing had fallen out and littered the floor. The lamps had been knocked over and shattered, and the small table had been broken in two. The mattress had been slashed, as well as the pillows. Blood was splattered across the floor—a lot of it. Their father had put up a fight.

Katarina let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, and she felt fury course through her veins. She swung her backpack from her shoulder and threw it at the ground as hard as she could, where it flopped pathetically before sagging, the daggers inside clinking around.

"Fuck," she managed through clenched teeth.

Talon was silent as he moved around the room, looking desperately for any signs, any clues, that might be left behind. Cassiopeia observed from the hallway, her teeth grinding, and her eyes burning with a ferocity Kat had never seen before in her sister.

"Nothing," Talon said, unable to keep the frustration from his voice at the lack of leads.

Kat ran a hand over her face, her thoughts racing. With the amount of blood on the floor, it was clear that someone—or several someone's—had come calling for her father. They'd fought, and Marcus had taken out several of them, if the bloodstains were any indication, but the fact that Marcus was no longer here could signify a handful of outcomes.

One was that their father had gotten away, and was simply holed up in one of the other safe houses. Another was that he had gotten away, but was on the run. The likelihood of either of these options was low, given what information their father had told them earlier that day. The more likely outcome was that he had been captured and taken away; whether he was alive, they had no way of knowing.

"So he's gone," Cassiopeia stated matter-of-factly, having reached the same conclusion as Kat. Talon whirled on her.

"We don't know that he's dead," Talon said roughly.

"I didn't say _dead_ ," Cass replied, sniffing condescendingly, "I said he's gone."

"Obviously," Talon spat.

"I'm trying to state the facts, _brother_ ," Cass retorted, "and it's a fact that he's gone, a fact that we don't know who took him, a fact that—"

"We know who did this," Kat interrupted. She'd regained enough composure to holster her gun and return her backpack to her shoulder once more. She crossed her arms. "The Black Rose."

"Who we know absolutely nothing about," Cass replied, though she didn't disagree with Kat's assertion.

"He must have left something for us," Talon said, "Notes, or books, or a letter, or... _something_."

"That's why they sacked his study," Cassiopeia said, "to make sure he didn't have anything on them."

"But Dad killed the man who searched it," Kat said. "Dad could have taken anything he had and brought it with him here."

Cass gestured around. "It's not here anymore, is it?" she asked ruefully. "We're outmatched, clearly. We need time to investigate on our own—without attracting attention like our father did. This... organization was able to track down our father and capture him. That means we need to avoid a confrontation at all costs; if they can beat Dad, then they can destroy us. Which means when we investigate, we can't leave a single trace."

Kat nodded. "And we have to do it on our own. We know the Black Rose is made up of members of High Command. That means we can't trust anyone from Noxus."

"As of now, the only Noxians we can trust are ourselves," Cassopeia said in agreement.

Talon grunted. He'd watched the exchange in silence, taking in the information and observing his sisters. "We should check the other safe houses," he offered. "There's a chance Dad might be there." Cassiopeia gave him a look, and he continued. "Maybe he was able to hide something in one of them."

Cassiopeia's eyebrows raised, and she offered Talon a rare look of approval. "That's true. If he had anticipated something like this, he could have hidden materials for us to find."

"That sounds like him," Kat mused. "I guess we don't have many options left, at this point. We can search the safe houses now, and see if there's anything Dad was able to hide in them."

There were three more safe houses throughout the city, on opposite ends. The one they were in now was on the north side of the city; the others were in the east, south, and west. If the Black Rose had placed tracking devices on their cars at the mansion, which was very likely, then they couldn't use those cars to travel to the safe houses without revealing their location. The houses were too far away to walk to from here, though, unless they wanted to waste hours of time and get no sleep that night. They needed a ride—preferably with a vehicle that had never been associated with Noxus or the DuCouteaus before. One that nobody would ever suspect.

An idea struck her. Not a good one, but an idea nonetheless. Kat let out a sigh, then reached into her pocket and retrieved her phone.

"What are you doing?" Talon asked as Kat scrolled through her recent messages and began to dial a number.

"Calling Garen fucking Crownguard," Kat grumbled, and raised the phone to her ear.

* * *

A/N: Soooo... it seems like the chapters are kind of averaging out to be more like 7-8k words each. It's funny. I used to have trouble writing a 5k word chapter, even with multiple scenes. Now I'm having trouble keeping the word count manageable. I guess that means I've improved a little bit, maybe (either that or my writing is all purple prose oops). Umm... so this is almost half of what I've written so far. It's taking me a while to write, but I really love this story, so I hope to continue writing, even if it means the updates might slow their pace a bit. Hope this chapter was exciting enough.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

* * *

Garen drummed his fingers on the dash, an amused smile on his lips. "Let me get this straight," Garen said, relishing the scowl of annoyance on Katarina's face. "You need a ride to three different places, and I'm not allowed inside a single one?"

"Yeah," Kat said. "That's it."

"That's it," Garen repeated. He chuckled, and was pleased to see Katarina's scowl deepen. He was willing to help her out; he didn't have any Demacian business to attend to today, and he'd finished his homework already, since there hadn't been much of it. He had nothing better to do, and he quite enjoyed Katarina's company. So he would help her. But teasing her was turning out to be far more fun than he'd expected. "You know, I didn't expect you to miss me so much that you'd call me and ask me to drive you around town."

"Shut it, Crownguard," Katarina said, "I didn't miss you , I just need a ride."

"Don't you have four or five cars?" he asked. The DuCouteaus weren't exactly lacking for money; he was sure they had several cars, given how wealthy they were.

She gestured around, to the empty street. "Do you _see_ four or five cars here?" she asked. Garen shrugged.

"I just don't know why you can't ask your parents to pick you up," Garen said. Surely, even if Kat and her siblings didn't have a car with them for whatever reason, their mother or father would be able to pick them up.

Katarina stiffened, and she looked away. "None of your business," she said tersely, and he wondered if he had struck a nerve. He wasn't sure what he'd said wrong. But that wasn't what Garen was thinking about right now.

"I think it _is_ my business, since you want me to drive you around." An idea struck him, and he knew that this had to be why she was acting so secretive about the whole situation. "You don't want your parents to know," he said.

Katarina snorted, paused, and then said, "You're too smart, you figured it out."

Garen missed the sarcastic edge to her voice and let out a triumphant guffaw. "So whatever it is you're doing, your parents don't approve!"

Garen didn't miss Katarina's eye roll, but he was too pleased with his successful deductive skills to really care. "So, where am I taking you?" Katarina had initially asked him to bring both her siblings along, but there wasn't enough room in the truck for all of them, unless they wanted to ride in the back, which Garen was adamantly opposed to. "There are no seatbelts!" he'd objected when Kat had suggested it. Lux had still been in the truck with him when Kat had texted, so she was staying behind with Katarina's siblings, whom she shared classes with. Garen hadn't liked the way Kat's brother had looked at Lux, but Garen knew his sister was able to take care of herself, so he had no reservations about leaving her with the DuCouteau siblings. In fact, Lux seemed more than willing to be left behind, and Garen wondered if his sister was plotting something, as she was prone to do when bored.

Sure, the DuCouteaus were suspected Noxians. But there had never been any proof, and while Katarina wasn't exactly the nicest person, she'd never given Garen any reason to suspect she was a bloodthirsty, murderous gang member. She was a little abrasive, sure, but nothing that extreme. And the same was true of her siblings. Besides, even if Lux did somehow end up in trouble, she had several means of contacting him and Demacia to let them know if anything was wrong.

Katarina began to give him instructions on how to get to the buildings, and Garen followed them carefully, sure to never make a wrong turn or go over the speed limit. Kat groaned. "Are you seriously driving thirty in a thirty five zone?"

"I'm driving thirty four," Garen corrected, slightly affronted that she thought he was driving that slowly. "I can't go over the speed limit."

"Can you at least drive thirty five?" Kat grumbled, and Garen shook his head.

"No. It's the speed _limit_ —I can't pass it without breaking the law. And if I drive thirty five, chances are that I might accidentally go over at some point."

"Right, I forgot you were the police chief's son," Kat muttered, then stared out the side window and rattled off the next few directions. The location was surprisingly complicated to get to, requiring several deviations and unexpected turns. Finally, the pair stopped in front of a nondescript, gated warehouse.

Katarina unfastened her seatbelt (Garen had refused to drive until she'd buckled up, much to her chagrin) and walked briskly to the metal gate as Garen removed the keys from the ignition. He exited the vehicle and followed her, coming up behind her as she unlocked the gate and stepped past it.

She caught sight of him and shook her head. "You stay out there," Kat told him and made to close the gate, and Garen stopped her from slamming it on him by pushing back against it. He was stronger than her, so he pushed the gate open and stepped inside before closing it. She glared at him.

"I won't do anything," Garen said, raising his hands, "but I told you already, I want to make sure you're not doing something I don't want to be involved in."

"I'm not dealing drugs or anything like that, Crownguard," Kat said with a huff, and Garen was actually relieved at that. Though he liked Katarina, he was still wary about the rumors that linked her family with Noxus. There was no proof, but Garen still wanted to be sure that he wasn't inadvertently associating himself with the wrong kinds of people, or helping Katarina get into trouble in some way. Drug dealing had crossed his mind, but since she said that wasn't what this was…

"I'd feel better about driving you around if I knew for sure that you were safe," he admitted. Katarina glared at him silently for several moments before sighing, then turning and heading towards the entrance to the warehouse.

"I'm just looking around, trying to see if... I left something behind," Kat explained as he hurried to catch up to her. She unlocked the door to the warehouse and entered, flicking the lights on.

There was little to be found within the warehouse. There were several crates on one end, and Garen was surprised to see a small office area to one side, where Katarina headed. She entered the office, and Garen followed as she turned the lights on inside here, too. It was a small area, no larger than a small bedroom. And there was a bed on one end, along with some chairs and a desk. The arrangement was strange, and Garen couldn't figure out why there was a bed in a warehouse. It was odd.

There were several file cabinets that lined the wall on the opposite end of the bed. It was towards these that Katarina headed, and she opened the drawers and pulled several files from the shelf, rifling through them with a frown before replacing them. She moved to the desk next, and searched through the drawers, her frown deepening. She checked the bed next, searched under it, then sighed.

"Didn't find what you were looking for?" Garen asked, and she shook her head.

"No," she replied as they left the office space and moved towards the crates. Katarina grabbed a crowbar which had been left on top of one of them, and began to pry at one of the crates. She opened it with much effort, and peered inside before snorting and moving on to the next crate.

"Here, let me do that," Garen offered, and Kat let him take the crowbar from her and open the crate. He glanced inside and was greeted with the sight of cans of food. Kat glanced at the contents and snorted once more, then directed him to open another crate.

And so it went on for about ten minutes, and they found nothing besides cans of food, jugs of water, and other necessities for living.

"Is this a safe house?" Garen wondered aloud as they replaced the lid on the last crate, which had been filled with a supply of toilet paper.

Katarina didn't answer, though Garen supposed that was answer enough in and of itself. Garen wasn't sure why they were looking through a safe house owned by the DuCouteau family. Though, given that the DuCouteaus were rich and powerful, perhaps it wasn't all that strange that the place existed. Their position of wealth made them a target, and the family was old enough to likely have made many enemies. But what kind of enemies would they have to warrant a safe house? Garen wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

"My Dad's a little paranoid," Katarina said, breaking the silence as they moved to the exit.

"I see," Garen said. Perhaps that was her way of trying to explain why they had a safe house stocked with enough provisions for a year. Paranoia would explain it, of course, but it had taken Katarina so long to provide the excuse, Garen wasn't sure that it was one he could believe.

They were silent as Kat locked the place up again and they entered the truck once more. Garen started up the engine and once more followed Kat's directions across town. This time, since there was little in the way of conversation, Garen decided to turn on the radio.

Katarina was quiet for a bit, the air between them filled with music, before she broke the quiet. "You listen to rock? I thought you'd be into classical music or something."

"I do enjoy classical music. It's soothing," Garen said as he slowed down at a yellow light and stopped when it turned red. "But rock music has a certain appeal to it. It has a nice sound, and there's an underlying beat that's... energizing."

Katarina was quiet, and Garen barely resisted the urge to clear his throat. "What about you?" he asked.

"What _about_ me?" she asked.

"Do you like rock?" He wanted to slap himself on the face. He couldn't have just asked what kind of music she liked?

She was quiet for a while longer before answering. "Yeah, I like rock," she said. And that was all.

He felt his ears warm a little at the thought that they shared similar music tastes. "How about classical?"

She snorted. "It's all right," she admitted, "but I can't listen to more than a few minutes without getting bored."

Garen laughed. "I guess we have that in common, then," he said. "I find the sound of classical music soothing—too soothing. It lulls me into naps if I'm not careful." He hesitated before his smile turned bashful. "I once fell asleep at a symphony concert. I don't think my mother's ever forgiven me for the embarrassment I caused the family."

Kat let out an uncharacteristic, quick laugh, and Garen found himself with the desire to hear that pleasant sound again.

"Good job, Crownguard," she said, "Tarnishing the family name at a public function. Tut-tut."

"Lux teases me about it, I don't need you to tease me about it, too."

Katarina made a contemplative sound. "Did you know my brother's in the same gym class as your sister?"

Garen shook his head, unsure as to why she'd brought it up. "No, I didn't. Why?"

Kat hummed and glanced out the window once more. "Just wondering," she said, and then directed him to turn right and stop at the end of the block, in front of an office building. A gated office building, just like the warehouse had been. Katarina's keys jingled as she sorted through them, and then she sidled out of the truck and moved to the gate. Though he tried his best not to, Garen inadvertently found his gaze drawn to her form as she moved. Her hips swayed enticingly from side to side, and her hair drifted in a slight breeze. Her legs were long, longer than he'd noticed before. He realized he was still sitting in the car as she approached the gate with her key, and he hurriedly unfastened his seatbelt and hopped out of the truck, closing the door and locking the vehicle before turning to the gate just as Katarina slipped through.

And as he approached to follow, Kat spun around, closed the gates, and locked them in one swift motion. Garen's jaw dropped as he realized what had happened. She'd locked him out.

* * *

Katarina had been in a good mood after her conversation with Garen. She'd never admit that she was warming up to his company, nor would she ever admit that she had been pleasantly surprised to find he liked rock music, too. So as she'd moved to unlock the gate, she'd had her guard down. It hadn't been until she was standing right in front of the gate that she'd noticed—the gate was unlocked. And she'd _seen_ a black car with tinted windows on the side street, which was usually empty. She should have realized then, but she'd been too distracted...

She heard Garen getting out of the truck, and she knew he would try to follow her. But the gate being unlocked could only mean one thing: this safe house had been compromised, and there was the possibility that whoever had done this, be they of The Black Rose or otherwise, would still be inside.

Garen was just an innocent civilian. She couldn't—wouldn't—let him get mixed up in this mess, she wouldn't let him get killed. So she made a decision in a split second and stepped through the gate, and then closed and locked it behind her.

"Katarina!" Garen let out in a yell, and Kat sincerely hoped there was nobody left inside who he might have just alerted.

"Garen, you've got to sit this one out," Kat said quietly.

"Katarina, I can't let you—"

"If I'm not back in fifteen minutes, call your father," Kat said, hoping the severity in her tone would come across and calm him. She didn't wait to find out, though. She spun around and walked briskly to the front of the building. She didn't bother trying to find the appropriate key for the building; she tried the door and, as she had suspected, the people who had broken in had left it open.

Ideally, she'd have her gun at the ready when performing this type of blind operation, where she had no idea of the enemies' numbers or strength. But if Garen were to hear the sound of gunshots, he'd call the police immediately. This particular safe house had various records pertaining to Noxian dealings; if the police found them, they'd have evidence that the DuCouteaus were a part of Noxus, and they could seize all of the family assets, freeze their accounts, and potentially arrest them all. Of course, the place had been compromised already, so who was to say that whoever had been here hadn't already alerted the police? Kat couldn't worry about that now; she had to work under the assumption that whoever had been here was still here, and that they hadn't yet alerted authorities about anything inside.

Kat drew her daggers, which had been hidden beneath her jacket, and gave them an agitated twirl. If there were still people inside who were armed, they would have to die, no questions asked. She couldn't allow anyone with information about this safe house to leave alive. And while she had no gun, she was quite content with her odds. She wasn't called The Sinister Blade for nothing. Though The Black Rose had managed to take her father, it didn't mean that Katarina wouldn't be able to put up a fight if she had to deal with the same men.

The office building was mostly empty. The family only used a few rooms on the highest floor. Kat took the stairs, racing silently up them, glad for the skills her father had taught her on how to move about undetected.

When she reached the top floor, she headed down the hallway to the office that held DuCoutau files, and she pressed her ear to the door and listened intently, hoping at least some of the intruders were still there. She wasn't disappointed. The sound of talking could be heard as a man inside gave directions for other men to search through some boxes. They were looking through the family files, then.

If these were regular thugs or policemen, Katarina had no cause for worry; she could take them out in her sleep. If they were from The Black Rose, though, she would have her work cut out for her. Nonetheless, if she were to struggle against them, and it took too much time, Garen would call the police; in that case, the intruders would be forced to retreat.

Katarina listened to their voices through the door and counted three different tones, all male. It was good thinking, to keep the party small so as to avoid attracting unwanted attention; it allowed for stealthier operations and faster transit. But it also meant that Katarina shouldn't have a difficult time taking out these targets.

They were entirely unaware of her presence, which was odd. Perhaps, after capturing her father, they'd let their guard down. Or perhaps they were just simple thugs who hadn't the foresight to expect someone to interrupt them. Regardless, Katarina was done waiting.

She gripped her daggers tightly and, in one swift movement, swung the door open. Three men were in the room, dressed in black; one man was facing away from her, about to pick up a box of files. Another was holding a file, looking through its contents. And the last man was hefting a box into the air, about to place it upon a row of stacked boxes.

With the clock ticking, and the men starting to react to the sound of the door opening, Katarina didn't have the time to prioritize her targets based on their actions or appearances. She went for the closest one—the one stacking boxes.

Her first dagger impaled itself into the man's temple before he had fully finished turning to face the door. Her second dagger found the man perusing the file, slicing through his skin and embedding itself within his skull.

The last man, who had been facing away from her, had turned around just in time to see the two men's bodies fall to the ground, and his eyes widened in shock. She threw a dagger lazily at his leg, and she ran forward, punching him in the gut so that the wind was knocked out of him, and he wouldn't be able to scream. She circled around him in an instant, her dagger at the ready.

"Answer my questions, and I might let you live," Katarina said softly as she placed a knife to his throat. The man was shuddering, and he swallowed, causing the blade to press harder against his throat.

"How many of you are there?"

"Just us," the man squeaked. His breathing came quickly, causing him to sound winded. So there weren't any more of them in the building. If the man wasn't lying.

"Are you from The Black Rose?"

"I don't know what that is," the man squeaked, "Please, please don't kill me!"

Katarina frowned. They'd been looking through files—something common thieves wouldn't have been doing. And this man didn't seem trained—he was blabbering like an idiot, shaking like a fool.

"Why were you here, and what were you doing?"

"I-I was offered money," the man said, "the man over there," he said, pointing to the man who had been looking over one of the files, "said he'd pay us each ten thousand dollars to help him move his boxes for him, and another thousand to stay quiet about it."

Kat snorted. So she'd killed the man who actually knew what was going on, and spared an idiot. _Great_ , she thought ruefully, Good going, Kat, you fucking idiot.

"Did he say his name?"

"N-no," the man said. "He said he was going to pay us, and—"

"Did he just pick you up off the street?"

"Yeah," the man admitted.

"Did he tell you why he wanted them?" she asked.

"N-n-no," he whimpered.

"Did he tell you _anything_?" she asked, exasperated.

"No," the man squeaked.

"Tch," she let out, and then sliced the man's throat, severing his artery. She held him as he bled, and then she wiped her blade clean on his shirt and dropped his body to the ground.

So the man had known about the files... Kat groaned. She'd have to check the security tapes. But she didn't have the _time_ to do that, since she'd told Garen to call the cops if she wasn't back in fifteen minutes. Which meant...

Katarina eyes the boxes and grumbled as she ran to one and picked it up. It was heavy, filled with loads and loads of files. She moved it out of the room and to the outside of the room, then hurried to do the same to the rest of the boxes. After moving most of the boxes, she realized she needed to make sure she still had time left.

She checked her phone and wanted to scream. She only had a minute left before Garen would call the cops. She hesitated before calling him and returning inside the office, holding the phone between her shoulder and head as she picked up a box of files.

He answered on the first ring, his voice urgent. "Katarina, are you all right? Do I need to call the police?"

"I'm fine," Kat said. _Unlike those men_. "Listen, don't call the cops, I'm fine."

"Why did you want me to—?"

"The gate was unlocked," Kat said by way of explanation. "I just wanted to check if anybody was inside."

"Katarina!" Garen gasped. "That's dangerous! What if there had been somebody?"

"I can take care of myself," Kat said, smirking as she placed the box in the hallway and headed back inside to grab the last of them. She ignored his protests and explanations of how dangerous going inside had been when there could have been all manner of burglars, thieves, rapists, or murderers lurking inside. "Listen, I'm moving some boxes—can I put them in the back of your truck?"

"...Yes," Garen said, and she could tell by the clipped way he said it that he was disgruntled, probably upset she'd gone inside and wasn't listening to his reprimands.

"Great," Kat said, lifting up the last box. "I'm going to need your help carrying these downstairs."

"Sure," he said, "I can do that. What floor are you on?"

"Fifth. I'll come downstairs and unlock the gate—"

"No need," Garen said, and Kat was confused by the remark.

"Wha—?" she began, but Garen interrupted her.

"I climbed over it," he explained. "Also, I think the elevator is broken."

Katarina would have ran a hand down her face in annoyance if she hadn't been holding the box. She placed it atop the box she'd just put down earlier and took the phone into her hand. "What the fuck, Crownguard?" He'd scaled the wall? When had he done that?

"I'll be there in a minute," Garen said, and Kat rolled her eyes as she ran back inside the office and searched the desk for some packing tape.

It took her longer than she'd anticipated, and she heard heavy footsteps in the hallway—Garen. She raced through the door and slammed it shut just as Garen came close. Hoping to keep him away from the office, she offered him a smile and waved the tape.

"Just have to tape them up, then we can move them downstairs," she said.

Garen eyed the boxes warily. "So we have to carry them... down five flights of stairs?"

Katarina nodded. "Yeah," she said. She _could_ get the elevators started, but that would require going back into the office to find the proper keys. Besides, she needed to keep Garen busy so that she could retrieve the security tapes, to find out who had compromised the building, and when.

Katarina taped the boxes closed, and Garen began the daunting task of lifting them and carrying them downstairs. He took two boxes, one under each arm, and Katarina hurried past him once they'd reached the bottom floor and unlocked the gate for him. She paused before re-entering the building, eyeing the gate. It was pretty tall—despite herself, she was impressed that Garen had hopped it. Annoyed, but impressed.

She held the door open for Garen who, surprisingly, wasn't winded by the long trip carrying the heavy box. Another thing to be impressed by; it seemed Garen was full of surprises. "I opened the gate for you," she told him. He nodded in thanks, and she returned inside the building, this time heading to the second floor and down some hallways until she reached the security room.

She unlocked it, and then went inside. The cameras had been turned off, she noticed, and she cursed. She began sorting through the recordings of the previous week, grabbing as many as she could and stuffing them inside her backpack. Quite frankly, she was lucky the tapes were still here, if The Black Rose was involved. This was one of the sloppiest jobs she'd seen; no guards, security tapes left behind, operatives and civilians unprepared for an attack. She wasn't sure this _was_ the work of The Black Rose, given the absolutely shitty job they'd done. But she hoped these security tapes would provide the answer, and help her find out exactly who broke in.

Her backpack was pretty full after she was finished, but that was all right with her. She made her way downstairs to dump her backpack on her seat, but the truck was locked. Kat made a quick count and realized there was only one box left upstairs—so that must be where Garen was. She decided to go up and make him give her the keys, that way she could put her backpack down and get the engine started. She jogged up the stairs and made her way down the hallway, and as she came into view of the office, her heartbeat nearly stopped at the sight of Garen with his hand on the office door.

"Crownguard!" she cried, and he started.

"Oh! Katarina!" he said, his hand still on the door. In his other hand he waved the tape. "I'll just put this up really quickly, and then—" he said as he began to turn the doorknob.

"Wait!" she practically yelled, racing to close the distance between them and yanking the tape from his hands as an excuse to wedge herself between him and the door. "You, you, uh," she stuttered, trying to come up with something to distract him. "Y-you locked the truck."

He nodded. "Yes," he said, and Kat almost breathed a sigh of relief as his hand left the doorknob. "I don't want anybody breaking in or stealing it."

Kat rolled her eyes, then nodded to the last box. "Why don't you take that down? I'll take care of this," she said, gesturing to the tape she held, "and meet you down there."

Garen nodded. "All right," he said, and he hefted the last box over his shoulder and strode down the hallway towards the stairs... humming.

Kat snorted and waited until he was out of sight before opening the door and replacing the tape inside the desk. She hesitated, then searched over the desk and through the drawers, wondering if perhaps her father had left something here. But there was nothing besides pens and paper, and Kat slammed the lowest drawer shut in frustration. She took a deep breath to compose herself, and then opened it again to retrieve the lighter inside, buried under sticky notes.

This building had been constructed with safety in mind; the walls were thick enough to stop bullets, and the structure was sturdy enough to survive earthquakes. The security system had been top of the line, and the place had the potential to be a fortress. There was really only one thing it was missing, and it was no accident. Her father never made mistakes, and he knew what he was doing when he opted to forego the sprinkler system. Kat flicked the lighter on and held it, waiting, until the highly flammable desk caught on fire. Then she set the computer on fire, set the wallpaper on fire, and set the clothes on the dead bodies on fire. Then she stepped over the dead bodies and made her way downstairs. The fire would spread quickly, aided by the carpet and the wooden paneling throughout the building. It wasn't the cleanest arson, but it would be effective. The fire wouldn't become visible until later, and by then, she and Garen would be long gone.

Garen was waiting, the engine running and the truck ready to go. Katarina slid inside and dumped her backpack at her feet, letting out a groan as she stretched and then fastened her seatbelt.

"Were those boxes what you needed?" he asked. She shook her head.

"No," she said. "They're not what I'm looking for."

Garen drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Katarina," he began, his voice low and serious, sending a slight shiver down her spine, "how am I supposed to know you aren't stealing this?"

God, this guy was overly cautious. "Crownguard," she said, "those are my father's personal records. The gate was unlocked, so that means somebody broke in—I'm not going to potentially leave my Dad's information for the taking."

Garen hummed slightly, and then he began to change gears and get the car moving. "I'm going to trust you," he said. Good thing he was so trusting; but that could get him killed some day, she thought. "So, onto the last stop, right?"

She nodded, and gave him directions to the last safe house. It took them a good ten minutes to navigate downtown, and Katarina sunk low into her seat, letting her hair fall over her face and obscure her features as they entered Noxian territory in the heart of downtown. Several neighborhoods and streets were under Noxian influence, and Katarina knew that if she spotted someone she knew, it might spell trouble if word got back to The Black Rose somehow. At this time of day, when the sun was still bright overhead and traffic was heavy in the streets due to rush hour, there was little chance that there would be many Noxians openly walking the streets. The fact that she was traveling in Garen's truck rather than her own car would help further keep Noxian eyes off of her.

Still, it was a precautionary measure. What with those men who had infiltrated the safe house and with the men who had kidnapped her father, Katarina was realizing that to err on the side of caution was most definitely the right move. And speaking of precautionary measures—she needed to keep Garen out of the last safe house. If there were more men, she didn't want to have to deal with the messy situation which would arise. She would have to kill, and that would make Garen connect the dots to her being a member of Noxus, and then she would have to kill him, and then she wouldn't just be worrying about finding her father, but also about keeping the police chief from finding _her_. All in all, not a situation she ever wanted to end up in.

The alternative was to let him accompany her, and hope for the best.

 _Screw that_ , she thought. "Garen, you're staying outside this time," she said as he pulled up in front of an old, run down, nondescript apartment complex.

Garen shook his head vehemently, a deep frown lining his face. "I can't do that, Katarina," he told her, "If you're worried about people breaking into your safe houses—like at the last one—then I want to make sure you're all right."

"I can take care of myself, Crownguard," Kat said, perhaps a little more roughly than she'd intended.

"I believe you," he said, parking the car across the street and putting the keys in his pocket. Then he reached down, rolled up his pants leg, and produced something Katarina had never expected to see. "But it would make me feel better to know that you're safe, and I have this to help in case a burglar shows up."

In his hand, he held a small tranquilizer gun. The same kind that was used by Demacia. Katarina had seen enough of them—had been shot at by one of them—to instantly recognize it.

"Is that—?" she began, and he cut her off with a nod.

"A tranquilizing gun. The same kind used by Demacia and the police force. My father got it for me, and told me to only use it in case of an emergency. I think encountering burglars counts as an emergency."

Katarina let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, and she felt waves of tension leave her. So he wasn't a member of Demacia; he was just using a gun his dad had gotten for him.

Katarina considered her options. One: knock Garen out and search the safe house herself. Two: keep arguing until Garen agreed to stay out in the truck while she searched the safe house herself (not likely). Or, three: let Garen accompany her, and hope he was a good shot in the event that there were intruders.

Katarina didn't like any of the options,but the easiest one was to let Garen come with her. Easier in the sense that she wouldn't have to deal with him arguing and being stubborn about it. And, well, if he _was_ a good shot...

"Fine," Katarina said, ignoring the triumphant smile that lit up Garen's face. "But don't get in my way, and _don't_ accidentally shoot me." She waited until Garen nodded in understanding, then left the truck, the young man following at her heels.

"I won't hit you," Garen said, "My aim's pretty good." With great difficulty, Katarina resisted the temptation to roll her eyes at his statement.

"Great," she said, hoping it would encourage him to be quiet. He was almost like a puppy, she found herself thinking—sticking around you no matter what, and responding well to positive reinforcement and encouragement. Also very cute, but she would never admit she found either puppies or Garen cute.

Katarina made her way inside the apartment complex, and they took the stairs to the second floor. Kat led them down a hallway, and she stopped in front of room 276. She unlocked the door and then beckoned him inside. The apartment was small, but spacious. It looked like a normal living space, but that was the point, of course.

In reality, there were several weapons stashed around the place, a state-of-the-art security setup, a safe containing several hundred thousand dollars in case of an emergency, and food to sustain a single person for up to a year. The rooms with windows had black curtains and tinted panes, to ensure privacy; and the apartment itself was comfortable and homey. Her father had never particularly liked this safe house, but their mother had decorated it before she passed away. Katarina's father had never changed anything about the place since she passed, so perhaps a piece of her mother lived on in the small apartment.

The first thing Katarina noticed when she entered the apartment was that there was a lot of green; the sofa, the armchairs, the wallpaper. And then she remembered that green had been her mother's favorite color. 'The color of your father's eyes. The color of your eyes,' her mother had told her once as she pinched Kat's cheek, when she was still young.

The second thing Katarina noticed was that the air conditioner was on. Usually, such a thing wouldn't have bothered her, nor warranted her attention. But the air conditioner was usually left off when the place wasn't in use.

So perhaps, Kat realized, it _was_ in use. Perhaps, a small part of her hoped, though she knew she shouldn't even entertain the thought—perhaps it was her father, safe and sound and taking refuge in this place.

"Someone's here," Katarina said softly to Garen, so that nobody would hear her. Whoever it was had probably heard her open the door, since the AC didn't make enough noise to cover the sound of her keys and the door itself. The fact that they weren't dead was mildly comforting, but Katarina was still wary.

Garen had his tranquilizer in his hand within a second, and Katarina had to admit that she was impressed with the speed of the movement and his reaction time. He'd drawn the gun with an eased, practiced, and steady hand. Almost professional, she thought. His father must have taught him.

He nodded, and Katarina moved to a small cupboard, and she opened it and retrieved a loaded gun from inside. She cocked it and raised it, ignoring Garen's wide eyes. She nodded in the direction of the hallway that led to the bedroom area, indicating that the pair would head that way. Garen nodded in understanding, and. Kat led the way down the hallway.

At the entry to the bedroom, the pair was quiet, and they listened for any noises coming from the other side of the door. Hearing none, Katarina braced herself and saw Garen doing the same. She counted down from three by holding up her fingers, lowering them slowly. Garen's eyes narrowed as she reached one.

When she closed her hand into a fist—zero—she put her hand on the door handle and swung the door open.

Only to find herself facing the barrels of three guns. While Katarina was an assassin, and prided herself on her ability to quickly eliminate targets, she had one hand on the door and the other holding a pistol in a position where she could only shoot two of them before she herself was shot. If she had her left hand free, she could have drawn one of the many knives she had hidden on her person, and it would be a simple matter to take out all three men. But as it was now, the movement would draw too much attention, and she would be shot dead before she could even wrap her fingers around her dagger.

The man in the center spoke, his voice low and raspy. Dangerous. "Gun down, hands up," he told her, and she tightened her grip on the pistol for just a second before slowly lowering it to the ground. She returned to an upright position just as slowly, her eyes moving around the room, assessing. The three men were the only ones occupying the room. The bed itself had been ridden of its sheets, and the drawers in the cabinets and night stands had been removed, the contents upturned. The dresser had been knocked over, and the mirror that had sat upon it had fallen, cracked, the glass shards scattered across the dark green carpet like stars across the sky. The paintings that had once lined the walls had been thrown carelessly to the ground. The one of her mother and father at their wedding had hidden a safe in the wall, and the contents of the safe were perhaps the only thing in the room which had gone untouched. The safe was still locked.

Katarina raised her arms slowly in surrender, as the men had told her to do. She hoped Garen had the sense to run. He had been a football star—surely he could outrun these men if they gave chase. She shouldn't have just barged in; she should have waited for a more opportune moment, or she should has just given up this safe house, and accepted the fact that any information here might have been compromised.

But here she was, staring down three guns without a blade in her hands. If she had just drawn one of her daggers, she could have had these men dead within a second. But she'd opted for the gun instead, the option more for show in front of Garen than anything else.

She'd screwed up. So now, all she could do was wait and let things play out. If the opportunity presented itself, she could take them out—if they turned their backs on her, or if she had even one moment alone. The chances of that happening were small, but Katarina refused to consider the alternative.

"You're Katarina DuCouteau?" the man with the raspy voice asked. Kat nodded. "Step inside the room."

She obeyed and took one step forward, bringing her out of the hallway and into the bedroom. Kat decided it was time to speak up.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked the men.

"That's not important," the man with the raspy voice said. He wore a dark mask, and she couldn't see past it, but she could hear the dismissal in his tone—as if she wasn't even worth considering, as if she weren't one of the deadliest people alive. "Do you know the combination to the safe?" he asked, gesturing to the wall safe.

So they knew what was inside, then. Or they knew there was something important in it. That was bad. _Very_ bad. Inside the safe were personal DuCouteau records, handwritten by each head of the house, that detailed every DuCouteau and their notable exploits and achievements. It was tradition for every head of the household to record the family members' successes, and in this way both remember and honor the strength and power of the family name.

If anyone outside of the family were to get their hands on it, it would spell disaster. The crime family's entire involvement in Noxus could be revealed, as well as her immediate family's roles in the gang. And if these people were from The Black Rose... Katarina knew without a shadow of a doubt that it would spell the end for her, her siblings, and her father.

Of course, if she said she didn't know the combination to the safe, they would kill her immediately. "What safe?" she asked, stalling for time, her eyes always moving, watching every minute movement the men made. The way one man's fingers shifted as he adjusted his grip on his pistol; the way the man in the center frowned, the shift in expression visible through his ski mask; the way the one on the right shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

"Don't play dumb. You're wasting your time and ours," the man said. He walked towards her, behind her, and shoved her towards the safe. She had the grace not to stumble, as she'd been expecting the move. "Open it," he demanded, his voice rough.

She felt the tip of his gun prod her in the small of her back, and so she moved, walking as slowly as she could towards the safe, trying to delay for as long as possible in the vain hope that an opportunity for her to retaliate might present itself. The other two men followed her, their guns trained on her with every step she took. She would never get the chance to attack; these men were clearly trained, and they weren't making any mistakes. If there were ever going to be an opening, it would be small, something they wouldn't see as a mistake, but which she could take full advantage of; the chance of it happening was slim, but Kat was never one to be deterred by the odds.

She noticed an opportunity just as she finally stopped in front of the safe. The man behind her moved, the gun facing away from her for just a moment—and she only had moments, miliseconds, to act, and Katarina prepared to draw her blades, throw them at the two men flanking her, and then attack the man behind her.

Three muted shots rang out, and Katarina flinched at the unexpected sound. The man behind her stumbled forward, and Katarina stepped out of the way as he fell to the ground, a dart sticking out from the back of his thigh. The other two men had met similar fates. She looked to the doorway and beheld a stern-faced Garen, who lowered the tranquilizer gun; he didn't holster it, though. He strode forward and knelt beside the unconscious men, checking their vital signs. Katarina knew without him needing to confirm it—they were unconscious. She'd been on the receiving end of one of those darts before; she knew how effective they were, how quickly they acted. Only after he'd nodded to himself and stood once more did he holster the gun.

Katarina couldn't help it—she let out a breathy laugh, a mix between relief and disbelief. "Garen," she managed between laughs, "what the _fuck_."

He frowned. "Who are these men, Katarina?" he asked.

Her laughter died abruptly, and she sobered quickly. "I don't know," she admitted. "You heard them—they didn't tell me."

Garen sighed. "Kat, we're going to have to call the police."

Katarina narrowed her eyes. Then, she turned and marched to the safe, inputting the code to unlock it, and checking to make sure the thick tome was still inside. She let out a sigh of relief to see that it was, then took it out, stuck it into her backpack (which was a difficult task, considering it was full of security tapes), and closed the safe once again, locking it securely. She turned around to face Garen and considered her options.

Quite frankly, this was way more than she'd expected when she had volunteered to check out the safe houses. She'd run into so many people—potentially from the group that captured her father—she'd killed three men, and now this… She couldn't really stop Garen from calling the police without him getting suspicious, but she couldn't have the police snooping around too much and finding things they shouldn't.

She twirled one end of her hair, biting her lip, and then sighed. "Give me a few minutes before you call them," she told Garen, who hesitated before nodding. She pulled out her cell phone and called her sister. Cass would know what to do.

* * *

"You did _what_?" Cassiopeia nearly screeched, and Lux shared a look of surprise with Talon. Cassiopeia's eyes had grown wide, and her nostrils flared as she listened to her sister on the other line. Cassiopeia began to rub her temples, and Lux could only surmise that their siblings had gotten themselves into some trouble.

She wasn't really surprised. Garen had a habit of being stubborn to a fault, and a knack for getting himself into trouble, a combination that had gotten him nearly killed on several occasions. And Katarina... well, this was a girl who made a habit of breaking as many rules as she could, just to see if she could get away with it. And if the rumors about the DuCouteau family were true... Well, a Demacian and a Noxian would definitely end up getting into trouble, wouldn't they?

"All right, but the... _valuables_ ," Cassiopeia said, glancing towards Lux briefly, "are secure, right?"

Lux knew when people were talking about things they didn't want her to know about. Unfortunately for the DuCouteaus, Lux had come here with the intent of finding out a few things they were trying to hide. Cassiopeia wasn't guarding the secrets Lux was after—nothing could stop Lux from taking those.

"Hey, what's the wi-fi password?" she asked Talon, as if she hadn't already hacked into their network (and surprisingly well-protected state-of-the-art security system) in the time she'd already been here.

Talon stood from the armchair. "I'll check," he grunted in that deliciously low voice, and he walked quietly down the hallway into one of the other rooms. She watched him, appreciating the view as he walked away.

Once he was out of sight, Lux checked to make sure Cassiopeia was too distracted talking to her sister to notice what Lux was up to. She was, and so, with a little bit of finagling, Lux decided to download all the files she could remotely access from the DuCouteau computers. Their security was good. _Really_ good. But Lux was better. The files were almost all copied, and Lux decided to open one of them, out of curiosity. It looked like a normal bank statement… _But why would that be saved to the computer in a safe house_ , she wondered.

"Got the password," Talon said from behind her, and Lux jumped and slammed the lid of her laptop closed. She hadn't heard him return at all, much less sneak up behind her.

"I-I didn't hear you," Lux said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and letting out a nervous laugh.

He smirked at her obvious distress about being surprised. "Sorry," he said, "I didn't think you'd be so... invested in whatever you were writing."

"E-English essay," she stammered out, hoping he'd believe the excuse. "It's really important."

Talon's smirk didn't diminish in any way as he held out a small piece of paper, upon which was scrawled the wi-fi password. Lux took it with a murmured thanks, and made a show of connecting to the wi-fi. In the meantime, she listened to Cassiopeia's increasingly frustrated voice.

"The _cops_? Great, Kat, just _great_ —I don't care, you should have called me before."

Cops? Now, that was interesting. It wasn't every day that the cops got involved with the DuCouteaus. And by the sound of it, Cassiopeia didn't sound happy about it at all.

When Garen had told her he was going to help Katarina move some stuff, Lux was only too happy to tag along. She'd been talking to Talon a little bit already, hoping for the teenager to drop any information about whether the DuCouteaus really were Noxians. This gave her more opportunity to find out.

There was, of course, the added bonus that Talon was _extremely_ good looking in that tall, dark and handsome kind of way, with his hair falling into his eyes and his unfairly attractive smirk. The fact that she'd been flirting with him to see if he'd drop info... she'd be lying if she told herself she was only doing it to get him to talk.

At the moment, Talon seemed only mildly interested in the phone conversation. Stretched out on the couch, he seemed content to lay back and watch things unfold.

"Slow down, slow down," Cassiopeia hissed. "He shot them? Does he have a permit?"

Ah. So Garen must have used his tranq. Her brother had always been a little... trigger-heavy.

"Well, _ask him_ ," Casiopeia said, and Lux had to contain a snort of laughter.

"What happened?" she asked Cass, who rolled her eyes and offered a huff.

"They ran into some... Burglars," she said.

"And Garen shot them. Ooookay," Lux said, refraining from rolling her eyes in a similar manner. "So they're calling the cops, right ?"

Cassiopeia nodded. "Yes, as they should. But... Well, your father is the police chief, right? Couldn't you... _convince him_ to just pick up the burglars, and not conduct any further investigations?"

Lux grinned. So they were hiding things they didn't want the police to find. That was good information to know. "Just tell them that. They'll conduct an investigation, of course, but if the burglars didn't actually steal anything, they just get breaking and entering." The process was more involved, of course, but that was essentially it. Lux wasn't about to teach suspected Noxians the complexities of law enforcement, or criminal law. Frankly, she was surprised they didn't have an in-depth knowledge of police protocol already. Lux had assumed that any crime family would make it their business to be aware of such things. Maybe they _weren't_ a crime family. It was too early to tell at this stage in the game.

Lux listened as Cassiopeia relayed this information to her sister. Then she said something Lux hadn't expected to hear. "Check for poison."

Lux now had confirmation that her suspicions were correct: this was no ordinary burglary. _Poison_? Perhaps the men were assassins or spies. Were they trying to kill one of the DuCouteau siblings? Was that why they were holed up in what was essentially a safe house, and were using her brother's truck instead of their own vehicles? Were assassins after the DuCouteaus?

If that were the case, sending Katarina to the other safe houses was a dumb move. Not only were they compromising their current location—they were also compromising the locations of the other safe houses. If the other locations had already been compromised, who was to say that this one hadn't been?

The DuCouteaus were playing a dangerous game, and they were playing it poorly. It could get them killed. They were only teenagers, so mistakes were to be expected; but that train of thought led Lux to realize something. Where was Marcus DuCouteau, their father, through all of this? He ought to be guiding them through this process, preventing these basic errors. He was a highly intelligent man; and if the rumors were true, a highly skilled strategist and assassin—more than capable of handling this situation.

But he wasn't here. So, either he was out somewhere else, doing something more important than keeping his children safe... Or he was MIA.

Or this was all some elaborate scheme to confuse the Crownguards, which certainly wasn't impossible, but which was highly improbable. Lux wondered what sort of incident might be holding up their father during such a critical time as this.

Still, Lux didn't want Talon to have to deal with the consequences should this location be compromised. Furthermore, _she_ was in this place, and Lux valued her safety. Lux opened her laptop once more, careful to angle it away from Talon and Cassiopeia, and began to wipe all traces of this safehouse from every possible place. It would take a fair but of time, but it was nothing Lux hadn't done before.

She also did a quick scan of the security system's logs, just to confirm whether somebody had broken in. There had been somebody here earlier in the day, but they had had access. Another party had arrived, then left—also with access. Around midday, however, there had been a slight blip in the system... Almost as if...

Lux quirked an eyebrow and did a bit more digging, then nodded to herself. Bingo. The security system had been hacked to provide access to a mysterious person or persons, who had entered the house, stayed for about fifteen minutes, and then left. They'd tried to wipe all traces from the system, but Lux knew a few tricks. So, this location _had_ been compromised. Great. She'd just wasted her time getting the place off the map—it had already been discovered.

Given that information, this location was no longer safe—it never had been. Time to let the others know.

"If I were you," Lux said, interrupting Cassiopeia mid-sentence. "I would call the cops. Make sure none of the other places were burgled. Including this house. Just as a precaution." She offered a sympathetic smile, layering it with a sickening sweetness that she knew made her look innocent. "Maybe they were tailing you for a few days, and they saw you come here or to the other houses. Maybe they knew you schedules and tried to steal when you were gone. Burglars are known to do that."

 _Read between the lines_ , Lux mentally pleaded, and she wasn't disappointed as Cassiopeia's eyes narrowed, and she gave Lux a suspicious look before returning to her phone.

"Katarina, we have to burn it," she said. "We need to burn it all. Just... trust me. And don't come back to this safe house."

Yep, they were _definitely_ transporting info they didn't want to go public. Most of it was probably not digitized, either, so there would be no way of finding out what it was once it had been turned into ashes. Oh, well. Lux was more concerned about this house being a dangerous place to be in.

Luckily, Cassiopeia seemed to have come to that conclusion. "We can't stay here," she said to Talon. "They've been to all the locations."

" _What_?" Talon said, eyes narrowing as he ceased lounging and leaned forward on his seat. "You mean they were—"

"Yes," Cassiopeia said gravely before returning to her phone.

"Then where will we stay?" Talon asked his sister, his fists curling. "Why did we stay here in the first place?"

An idea struck her, and Lux had to refrain from smirking.

"You guys are welcome to stay with us, if that would make you feel safer," Lux offered. Cass and Talon turned to her, eyes wide. "My dad is the police chief, you know. Doesn't get much safer than that."

Talon snorted. "I don't think—" he began, but Cassiopeia interrupted him.

"How long would we be able to stay?" she asked, and Talon's jaw dropped in an incredibly attractive manner. How in the world did he manage to pull that off? Usually the stupified look was incredibly off-putting, Lux found herself thinking distractedly.

"However long you need," Lux said, offering a false smile that she knew looked genuine. "We don't have friends over too often, and I think Garen needs to socialize more. Besides, there's plenty of room in our house for guests."

"Your parents won't mind?" Cassiopeia asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Lux could hear Katarina on the other line speaking, but couldn't make out the words. She was probably confused, but Lux honestly didn't care.

Of course her parents would mind. "They won't!" Lux lied cheerily. "Even if they do, I'll talk to them!" Oh, yes. She would talk to them, all right.

Cassiopeia hummed before nodding. "We'll take you up in that offer." She beamed, and Lux suddenly wondered if she wasn't the only one able to fake a smile on the turn of a dime. "Thank you so much, Lux!" Cassiopeia wrapped Lux in a brief hug (which Lux did _not_ appreciate but which she pretended to) before explaining the offer to her sister over the phone.

Lux contained a set of giggles when she heard Garen's confused voice after Katarina told him what Lux had said. She retrieved her own phone and began composing a text to send to her father. This day was turning out to be way more exciting than she'd anticipated, Lux thought with relish as she sent the message.

* * *

A/N: This is the longest chapter by far; the others shouldn't be as long as this. There's a lot of setup going on here, and I know there are some boring parts, but hopefully the action and mystery surrounding everything makes up for it. So they'll be staying with the Crownguards, now. Lots of possibilities there ;)

I'm moving back to the dorms in a week. Thank god. I'll have decent internet and will finally be able to play normals again ;-; I've only been playing arams at home since I get hella ping spikes. Anyway, there's only like... 30 more pages of this that I've written so far. As I've said, I won't be able to update consistently once school starts, since I'll be focusing on my last year of college. But don't worry! This is my favorite story that I've written so far, so I'm definitely going to keep updating, even if it takes a while.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

* * *

Garen stood as soon as Katarina left the office. Her eyes were heavy, and she was obviously tired. But when her gaze met his, her eyebrows drew together, and she scowled at him.

"How did it go?" he wanted to ask, but the glare she was sending his way made him think better of speaking. Instead, he waited for her to draw near.

"Thanks for getting me interrogated, Crownguard," Katarina said.

"What?" he asked, taken aback. "They weren't interrogating you—they were just trying to get information about who those burglars were." When the police had arrived on the scene, they had arrested the men—but not before Katarina had pulled poison out of their pockets. The police had seen it in her possession and had taken her in for questioning, as well, though Garen had assured them she had just relieved the men of it. Garen had asked one of the officers what they were going to do with Katarina, and the officer had assured him that they were just asking her about the burglars. Her boxes were still sitting in his truck.

"It sure seemed like an interrogation with the way they were shooting me questions," Kat grumbled. "If you hadn't called the damn cops—"

"Katarina, I _had_ to—" Garen said, growing increasingly frustrated with Katarina's aversion to the police and her constantly bringing this subject up again. After hanging up with her sister, Katarina had railed at him for calling the cops and for insisting on being stubborn about it.

"No, you _didn't_!" Kat interrupted, and Garen had to refrain himself from interrupting her to finish his own thoughts. "You could have just fucking stayed outside like I had asked—"

"And you'd have been _killed_!" he said, unable to contain himself. He hadn't eaten anything since lunch, he hadn't gotten a full night's rest the night before, and he had walked up and down five flights of stairs multiple times carrying several heavy boxes. It was late, and he was tired—both physically and mentally. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself after his outburst. "Katarina, I'm sorry that this isn't what you wanted. I'm sorry about whatever is going on in your family, and I'm sorry that you had to deal with these men breaking into your home. But please don't take out your frustration on me. I was legally and morally obligated to call the police, and they will help you figure out who these men are and why they broke into your safe house."

He sighed, his shoulders slumping, as he realized that she was in the same boat as him. She probably hadn't eaten right, and he knew she certainly hadn't gotten enough sleep; she must be just as exhausted as him, if not more so. "I'm sorry that I've made this difficult for you," he said. "But I'll do my best to make it up to you in any way that I can."

Katarina opened her mouth as if to argue, then closed it and looked away, glaring at the wall. She crossed her arms, and took several deep breaths before letting out a huff. "Fine," she mumbled, then brushed past him, walking towards the exit of the police station. "Let's go."

Garen watched her retreating form, the way her hair swayed from side to side, and then hurried to catch up. This girl made his blood boil, but there was still something about her that drew him to her, like a moth to a flame , despite himself.

He drove her to his house. Lux had called their father earlier, who had gone to the safe house to pick up Katarina's siblings. Garen wasn't sure how she'd managed that—he couldn't imagine their father willingly allowing the children of a suspected crime family under his roof. Which meant that Lux had either refrained from disclosing their guests' true identities, or she had somehow blackmailed their father into agreeing. Both equally possible options, and neither of which he wholly approved of. Or disapproved of.

At any rate, Father had allowed the DuCouteaus to stay at the house indefinitely—for as long as they needed, Lux had said. And while Garen was glad that they would have a safe place to live, he also recognized that he was going to be living in the same house as Katarina DuCouteau. The thought sent a tingle down his spine.

The evening drive was quiet, save for the radio. He'd turned on the rock station, and he hoped Katarina was enjoying the music (she did like rock, she'd said). Today, he'd caused her and her family quite a bit of stress. He wanted to make it up to her, somehow. A thought occurred to him as he was driving, and he decided to share it. "I might be able to find out whatever the police know about those men. I can ask my father about the investigation, and keep you posted on the details."

Katarina finally faced him, and her eyes were narrowed in thought. Her scar stood out against her features, striking, a line that hinted at a past Garen wished he could know. Her emerald eyes narrowed, and he could see the setting sun reflected in them, hidden in their depths, behind dark clouds. She spoke, in what was perhaps genuine confusion, and certainly suspicion.

"Why?" she asked.

"Why what?" he asked in returned. Why would he do this for her? Why he was going out of his way to help her? What his intentions were?

"Why do you care?"

Garen swallowed, taken aback by the question. Why _did_ he care? He didn't know.

"It... it's the right thing to do," he told her, settling for the half-truth. He wasn't lying. He had frustrated and angered her earlier—this was his way of showing her that he could, and _wanted_ , to do the opposite.

Katarina was silent as he pulled onto the street in front of his house. The gates surrounding the perimeter were covered with ivy, preventing anyone from looking beyond them; unlike the DuCouteaus, whose mansion was atop a hill on the north side of town alongside other old estates, the Crownguards lived on the East side, and lived on a street alongside other families also considered to be new money. The Crownguard mansion was small and simple, but there was an elegance to the simplicity of the structure. Grass grew around the estate, save for on the gravel driveway which led up to the house and circled around a fountain in the front. The fountain was plain, with no decorative carvings along the side of the basin (unlike the one at the DuCouteau mansion), and the water which spouted from the top did not rise higher than a foot. Rosebushes grew along the sides of the house, carefully tended to year-round by the family's gardeners.

There were few other decorations to be seen in the front of the mansion, besides trimmed bushes and a few oak trees. Around the back was a pool and a patio, and in the front, the gravel drive led to the right, where Garen turned and parked the truck in the garage.

He let out a sigh and turned to speak to Katarina. To say what, he wasn't sure—but she was already moving, scooping up the backpack at her feet and opening the door to step outside, so Garen followed suit. He locked the truck—which earned an eyeroll from his companion, and then he led Katarina inside the mansion.

"I'll show you to the guest rooms," Garen said, motioning for her to follow him, though he figured she probably would have done so anyway. He led her past the living room and the drawing room and to the staircase, where they took the stairs to the second floor. He then led her to the west wing, and to the end of a long hallway.

"These are the guest rooms," Garen said, gesturing to the doors around him. "I... Suppose you can choose whichever one you'd like, assuming your siblings haven't decided to occupy it."

Katarina nodded, then headed for the room at the very end of the hallway, closest to the window at the end. "Is it locked?" she asked, her hand reaching for the doorknob. He shook his head, and she turned the knob and stepped inside the room, flicking the light switch on. Inside was a queen-sized mattress, a bedside table, an armoire, a wardrobe, a floor-length mirror, two full bookshelves, and a small desk tucked into the back corner. There was a bathroom, and a walk-in-closet attached to the room.

Garen immediately noticed that the bed was unmade. "Let me grab you some sheets," he said quickly, turning to leave, "Go ahead and make yourself at home."

He left the room, closed the door behind him, and made his way down the hallway to a closet where they kept the sheets and comforters. He grabbed them and then returned to her room, and knocked. Katarina opened the door and he offered her the sheets, which she took. She seemed to regard him differently, though Garen couldn't place the emotion on her face.

"Thanks, Garen," she said after a few moments, and she moved to the bed and began putting the sheets on. His heart skipped a beat at the way she'd said his name, and he realized that she had been completely genuine in her thanks. She had left the door open, so he took it as an invitation to come inside, and when she made no protests, he moved to help her prepare the bed.

"You're welcome," he said as a thought occurred to him. "You know, that's the first time you've called me by my first name."

Katarina blinked rapidly, meeting his gaze for a brief moment before staring at the corner of the sheet she was putting on the bed, and suddenly seeming wholly absorbed by the task. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but he thought he saw a tinge of pink begin to color her cheeks.

"That… wasn't the first time. But don't get used to it, Crownguard," she muttered, and he had to wonder—when had she said his name for the first time? He hadn't noticed, and he didn't know why that bothered him so much. She had seemed to be missing some of the usual bravado she spoke with. It was probably because she was tired—it _was_ getting late. And, as if to further reinforce that idea, his stomach growled, and he blushed. She was probably hungry, too, but the smirk she gave him as they fitted the comforter onto the bed made him blush even fiercer.

Mercifully, she didn't comment on the noise his stomach had made, but rather stretched once they'd made the bed. "Got any food?" she asked, and he nodded, then took her downstairs to the kitchen.

He found a frozen pizza in the freezer and heated it up as Katarina acquainted herself with the first floor, wandering around. After a few minutes, Garen heard talking, and could only assume that Kararina had run into her siblings. Absently, he wondered where Lux was, but then the timer went off and Garen put on his oven mitts and took the pizza out. He sliced it and then set the table, including extra plates as an afterthought in case Lux, Talon or Cassiopeia wanted to join them.

He found Katarina in the drawing room, speaking in hushed tones with her brother and sister. He cleared his throat as he entered, and they went silent immediately.

"Umm... The pizza's ready," he told Kat. He nodded towards her siblings. "There's plenty of food, if you want some."

Talon stood immediately from the chair he'd been occupying and swept past Garen in the general direction of the kitchen. Cassiopeia rolled her and stood as well.

"Thank you for the offer, Garen," Cassiopeia said, "but I already ate earlier, so I think I'll just go to my room and get ready for bed. Lux made us some delicious food earlier. Talon ate, too, but I guess he's still hungry."

Garen had to chuckle at that. "Well, you know what they say about growing teenage boys," he said, and Katarina rolled her eyes.

"Cass, we should talk," Katarina told her sister, and Cassiopeia sighed.

"I know," she said, "but I think it best we wait till tomorrow. I fell asleep waiting for you to get back safely, and I…"

Katarina placed her arms around her sister in a gesture so tender, Garen felt as if he were intruding. What she whispered next to her sister he didn't hear, for he ducked out of the room to give them some privacy, and waited in the hallway for them to finish whatever it was they needed to discuss.

In a matter of seconds, the two sisters left the room, one heading upstairs to bed, and the other following Garen down the hall and into the kitchen. On the way, she elbowed him in the arm, and pointed to his hands, and he realized he was still wearing the oven mitts.

"Blue's your color," she said, smirking. Rather than be embarrassed, Garen grinned and decided to take it in stride

"Yes it is," he said proudly. "My sister got me a blue scarf for Christmas when we were younger. It's my favorite scarf. And you know what they say—your favorite color's the color that looks best on you."

Katarina snorted. "They say that, huh?"

He nodded vehemently, and she cracked a grin, and he thought that the hard lines on her face vanished when she smiled, and she seemed... younger. More innocent, as though she weren't carrying some heavy burden on her shoulders. Garen could relate.

When they'd settled, Garen served everyone a glass of water with their meal. They ate dinner in relative silence, only exchanging a few pleasantries and mostly focusing on eating their food. When they'd finished, Katarina moved to put away the dishes, but Garen shooed her away. Talon was more than happy to leave the dishes to Garen, and departed from the kitchen rather quickly, probably to return to his room.

"I've got it," Garen said as Katarina stubbornly ignored him and began collecting plates anyway.

"Let me do this," Katarina said as Garen tried to take the dishes from her; and it was in those words that Garen heard a sort of desperate sound. And he realized that Katarina was probably not one to just expect favors for nothing; this was probably her way of paying him back, in some way, for all he'd done for her today.

Garen sighed and nodded. "All right," he relented, "but we'll do the dishes together ."

"Fine," she replied, seemingly content with the arrangement, and the pair washed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher.

"Goodnight," he told her as she turned to leave the kitchen, and she looked over her shoulder at him, her hair cascading down her back. He offered a tentative smile and a small wave.

"Goodnight," she returned softly, and then left the kitchen and headed to her room.

Garen let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, and ran a hand through his hair. Then his eyebrows drew together, and he stood tall. Yes, he was tired, but there were more important things than that right now.

He had some work to do.

* * *

" _Why_?" Lux asked, pinching the bridge of her nose and clenching her eyes shut as she spoke into her cell phone. It was midnight, nearing one in the morning, and the last thing she'd expected was a phone call from her brother to wake her up from her already restless sleep. It had taken her a good hour to get to sleep; it was hard for her to let her guard down knowing that the DuCouteau family were asleep down the hall, and that there were likely assassins after them. And by sheltering them, the Crownguards might become targets, too. Further souring her mood, her search of the documents she'd retrieved from the safe house had so far been fruitless, and she had only managed to make it through a measley fifteen percent of the files. She'd had a lot on her mind when she'd finally tried to catch some shut eye, and sleep had eluded her for quite some time. She'd finally managed to fall sleep, only to be woken by her brother. And he'd gone and done something stupid, too. Typical. She loved her brother, but he could be a pain in the ass sometimes.

"I want to know who those men are," her brother told her.

"So you decided that breaking into the police station and going to their cells to interrogate them was the best option?" she asked, unable to keep the exasperation from slipping into her words.

Garen was quiet for a moment. "I might not have thought it through entirely," he admitted, having the grace to sound sheepish about it, and she let out an exasperated sigh.

"No duh," she murmured. "Look, just... Don't so anything rash, okay? I'm on my way." A thought occurred to her, and she grew serious. "You're wearing your mask, right?" Even though their father was the police chief, there was no way he would be able to cover it up if one of the officers saw that Garen had snuck past the other officers into restricted areas and questioned prisoners. Furthermore, if Garen had tranquilized anyone—and this was Garen, her rather trigger-heavy brother—then it would raise questions about how he'd gotten ahold of a Demacian tranquilizer, about whether _Garen_ was Demacian. And while it would be easy to play it off as a gift from their father, it wouldn't erase the fact that he'd tranquilized a _police officer_. He absolutely needed to be wearing his mask, or else the results could be disastrous for him and their family.

"Of course," he replied almost instantly, and Lux heaved a sigh if relief. "There are cameras—I don't want them to know who I am." She should have known. Her brother might be rash and headstrong, but he wasn't stupid. He knew what was at stake, and had taken the necessary precautions. She needed to trust him more.

Lux began gathering the usual tools she used on missions and threw them haphazardly into a bag—her rifle, pistol, tranquilizer, mask, laptop. "Just give me fifteen minutes," Lux said. "Gotta get my things and then get the car."

"All right," Garen said, and Lux hung up, pocketing her cell phone as she moved about the room. Her brother was being impulsive again. The last time he'd done that, he and Jarvan had nearly ended up dead. Lux wasn't entirely sure what had prompted this sort of behavior from her brother, but she had her suspicions.

Once she'd packed her things, she double checked that her room was locked, and that her computer was secure, and then she left through the window, climbing down the side of the house and landing easily on the soft grass. She jogged to the garage and made her way to the back, where there were some shelves holding tools and gardening materials. She lifted a particularly large lawnmower manual and revealed a button on the back of the shelf, and she pressed it. The shelf slid to the side, and there was a small entryway with stairs which led underground, and Lux took the stairs and the shelf slid back into place behind her. Automatic lights turned on overhead, illuminating the area as she descended.

The underground garage was where they kept all of the Demacian equipment that they owned, including a handful of vehicles, which were used for various purposes, from transporting goods to leading an assault on Noxian hideouts. Lux selected an unassuming black car and then drove to the exit, which led onto the park a few blocks away from the Crownguard residence. The park had ample vegetation and enough trees to hide a building the size of a large barn—perfect for hiding a secret exit; the exit rose parallel to the street. Lux made a neat turn onto it, and then she was off, speeding down the roads towards the police headquarters as she slid on her own mask.

* * *

Garen sighed. He'd managed to sneak past most of the police guarding the station—an easy task, since he knew their routes and patterns, and even a few of the officers, thanks to his father. He'd made his way to the cells, and then knocked out the armed officer acting as their guard with his tranquilizer, and then he tried to question the men.

"Who are you?" he'd asked, and received no reply. Each man was silent, as if they'd been trained to hold their tongue. He'd asked them why they were there, what they were looking for, if they knew who they had attacked, why they had gone after Katarina and her family.

None of Garen's questions had borne any fruit. Frustrated with the lack of results, Garen had stepped outside of the room, hoping some time to collect himself would aid in his quest for answers.

It was as he took his second deep breath that the power to the station went out, and since there were no windows in this particular hall, he was plunged into complete darkness. His mask immediately adjusted, switching on the night vision capabilities, and Garen pulled out his phone and called his sister, who answered on the first ring.

"I'm five minutes out—" she began, just as Garen asked," Did you cut the power?"

Lux answered quickly. "No, I'm not even there yet. Isn't there a backup generator?" There was—the station had its own backup generator in times of emergencies, and for when the power went out. "It should kick in within ten seconds—"

"It hasn't," he said, noting the time that the night vision had been active in the bottom corner if his visor. "It's been a minute, and it's not back on."

Lux was quiet, and then he heard the unmistakable sound of the engine revving as she increased her speed. "Be careful," she said, "might be an attack."

Garen nodded, and drew the baseball bat that had been clipped onto his belt, swinging it in his hand a bit before gripping it with both hands. "All right," he acknowledged. "When you get here, see if you can figure out what's wrong."

"Will do," Lux said. "I'll talk to you over the comms, okay?"

"All right."

Lux hung up, and Garen put his phone back into his pocket, looking around. He saw nothing, and so he decided to toggle on the heat signature setting, noting several bodies throughout the building. Those were the police, moving around and trying to get the power back on and running.

Garen toggled it off, and the visor returned to night vision. He glanced around the room—still nothing.

He had just decided that it must be some sort of fluke—something mechanical, probably—when he heard something. Footsteps—quiet, yes, but unmistakable—coming from the hallway, headed his way. He toggled the heat sensor again and looked in the direction if the sound, and saw nothing; but the footsteps were growing louder. He toggled it back to night vision and gripped the bat tighter, preparing for a fight. He heard Lux over the comms, but he ignored her, as the threat before him was more important. He would talk to her afterwards. Right now, he needed to focus. Besides, if he spoke now, the person would hear him, and he didn't want to give away his presence.

Finally, the footsteps stopped just outside the door, and the door handle turned and the door swung open.

A figure wearing some sort of black, tight-fitting suit appeared. It was unmistakably a woman given her form and figure, and she seemed slightly surprised to see Garen, ready with his baseball bat. She wore a mask similar to his own, and Garen saw her lips purse slightly before turning into a grin.

"Demacia, I take it?" she asked in a voice that sent a shiver down his spine. He could feel her eyes as they travelled over him, giving him a once-over, and the sensation was completely and wholly unsettling, as though this woman possessed an otherworldly power to read others. "A baseball bat, and broad shoulders... You're the Might of Demacia." It was a statement, not a question.

Garen didn't bother responding. This woman was clearly no cop, so she didn't belong here; she'd come to the prisoners, too, so there was no way that she was up to anything good. He charged, swinging his bat at her, but she sidestepped his swing and managed to get behind him faster than he thought was possible.

"So eager for a fight," she murmured, and Garen spun around, bat swinging, but he felt a sharp pain in his leg, followed by a muffled bang, and he realized that he'd been shot.

And it was only after that he saw a Demacian tranquilizer in her hand, which she discarded lazily to the floor, and Garen's eyes widened. He felt his jacket—only to realize that his tranquilizer was gone. She'd taken it from him in the instant that she had maneuvered behind him, and he hadn't noticed a thing. His vision began to blur at the edges, and he felt himself losing his balance—it was all he could do to keep himself upright.

She stepped towards him, and he stumbled away, earning a laugh from her as she continued to approach. He swung his bat in an arc, but she simply ducked and continued to move towards him. He tried to push her away as she reached for him, but he had grown weak due to the chemicals running through his system, and he couldn't move her away as her hands went on either side of his mask and ripped it from his face, and he was powerless to stop her. She made a surprised sound. "The police chief's son is the Might of Demacia? My, how interesting." She let out a laugh that made him shudder with its coldness.

He tried to swing his bat at her once more, but it had grown heavy in his hands, and he only managed to make it bump her weakly before it slipped through his fingers and clattered to the ground, rolling out of reach.

"Don't worry, I'll deal with you in a bit," she said with amusement as he felt his vision darken. She dropped the mask at his feet, and then she turned and walked to the prisoners' cells, and she drew a pistol.

"No," he managed as he fell to his knees and reached out, unable to stop her. In his ear, Lux was speaking to him through the comms, but he wasn't listening, couldn't make sense of the words she was saying. "No," he breathed as he heard a shot ring out, then another, and another. Then he fell forwards, dizzy and losing consciousness, and he thought he saw the woman leave the room and stand over him, the gun pointed towards him. He thought he heard her whisper something to him, something about a black rose, but he couldn't be sure, because everything was dark and swimming and dizzying and images blurred together and sounds grew incoherent, and then everything went dark.

* * *

"Shit," Lux cursed as she realized her comm was jammed, and she couldn't reach Garen. Oh, yes, this was _definitely_ an attack. Lux had come prepared, but this was unlike anything she'd seen before. The signal blocking her was incredibly strong, and she'd have to get rid of it. She retrieved her laptop and began doing just that.

It took longer than usual on account of the strength of the defenses around the jammer, but Lux was able to disable it. She then turned her attentions to the systems blocking the power into the building, and she was surprised to find some sort of program blocking the power. She did some maneuvering and managed to get around it, only to hit another difficult program blocking her from shutting it off.

So she'd have to do this the hard way, then. Lux loved a challenge, but this was getting ridiculous. She spent the next few minutes hacking and getting rid of program after program, and by the time she was _finally_ able to reroute the power to the station, Lux knew without a doubt that whoever had done this was her equal in terms of hacking ability. Well, she thought smugly as she managed to begin detouring power to the station, not _quite_ her equal.

It would take a few more minutes for the power to come back on, but that was fine. Lux was more concerned about her brother. He'd been completely silent for the past ten minutes, and so Lux tried to reach him. The comms were working, but he wasn't responding. So either he was busy, or...

Lux wasn't going to take any chances. She toggled the option to see his life systems and was relieved to find that he was alive, though his adrenaline levels were high. She noticed increased heart rate. So he was fighting someone?

He'd been with the prisoners—the ones that had broken into the DuCouteau safehouse and held Katarina at gunpoint. So whoever had set up this attack, whoever this mysterious hacker was, they were after the prisoners. That could only mean one thing: they were going to kill the prisoners to ensure their secrecy. They weren't going to even allow for the possibility of the prisoners spilling any information on them.

Lux was going to go help her brother; he'd probably need it. She grabbed her rifle and pistol and took the keys out of the engine, then made a break for the station. She barreled through, bypassing the officers inside easily since she knew their patrol routes, and she made her way towards the prisoners.

She'd been keeping an eye on Garen's vitals, and she increased her pace when he seemed to be losing consciousness. "Are you okay?" she asked, and received no response. She rounded the corner and saw him lying on the ground, unmasked and only barely conscious, just as three shots rang out, and she froze, horrified, thinking that her brother had been shot, killed.

But no—the shots had come from the cells. And as Lux stood, realization dawning about what had happened, the intruder stepped out from the cells, a woman wearing a close-fitting suit outfitted with what seemed to be advanced technology.

The woman walked towards Garen and spoke quietly to him, though Lux was able to hear the words the woman whispered.

"You've poked your nose in where it doesn't belong," she said. "Let this be a lesson for Demacia. The Black Rose sends its regards." Then the woman lifted her pistol and pointed it at Lux's brother.

Lux had been moving before she even realized it. She'd readied her rifle, taking aim through the scope, and lined up the shot. The woman's head was dead-center, and Lux never missed.

But she must have made some sort of noise, because just as she pulled the trigger, the woman looked right at her, and she managed to roll out of the way just in time to avoid the shot that would have pierced through the center of her forehead and surely killed her. Lux cursed under her breath and drew her handgun; the rifle would be too slow and cumbersome for a close quarters fight.

The woman stood, and aimed her pistol at Lux, who had returned the favor.

"Another Demacian," the woman muttered.

"Are you the one who turned out the power?" Lux asked, hoping to stall for time. At her current position in the room, she was at a disadvantage. The woman could shoot her brother or her, and Lux could only protect herself.

The woman smirked. "Yes," she said, and Lux filed away the information that this woman was proud. It might come in handy later. "I did."

"Well, I took out your programs," Lux said. "You have one minute left before the power's back and the security cameras catch you and whatever vehicle you use to get away." It was a lie. She'd dismantled the programs and rerouted power back to the building, but it would still take at least another five minutes before the power came back on. But Lux was good at bluffing; she'd done it all her life.

The woman tensed, and Lux felt her own surge of pride at the reaction. So the woman hadn't expected her programs to be dismantled, and the fear of being caught was obviously distressful to her.

"You're the Lady of Luminosity," the woman stated, and despite herself, Lux was impressed by the almost instant deduction based off of the little information she'd provided.

"Guilty as charged," Lux said, and then she shot at the woman, who sidestepped the bullet and returned the favor with three rapid shots of her own. Lux threw herself to the side, positioning herself between the woman and Garen, and the bullets flew past her and embedded themselves into the wall behind her. But the woman had positioned herself closer to the door at the same time that Lux had moved closer to Garen.

"Who are you?" Lux asked as she trained her gun on the woman once more. The woman's gun was already pointed towards her.

The woman smirked. "We'll meet again. And next time, I won't underestimate you." Then, with movements so quick, Lux could barely follow them , the woman threw something to the ground, and Lux barely had time to close her eyes and turn around as the flashbang went off, casting blinding light into the room.

When she looked, the woman was gone. Lux let out a sigh of relief before turning and hurriedly replacing Garen's mask on his face. The officers would be here soon; the noise from the flashbang would draw their attention. She had some time due to the power being off; though her mask provided night vision, the officers would have to stumble their way through the dark to this area. Lux moved to her brother's side and, with great effort, managed to lift him slightly. She dragged Garen down the hallways and dumped him unceremoniously in the backseat of the car just as the power returned to the station. She drove away as quickly as she could, muscles aching from dragging her heavy brother, and she bit her lip. It hadn't escaped her that the woman hadn't answered her question.

Garen had nearly died today. Three men _had_. What the _fuck_ was going on? Lux didn't know, but she knew where to start to find out the answers—with the DuCouteau children.

* * *

A/N: Shit went down, folks! Wonder who that woman could _possibly_ be~

Anyway, i've just finished moving into the dorms, and school starts up for me next week. Sadly, that means this is the last chapter that will be out for a while. Sorry. Instead of writing this past week, I spent 5 hours watching all the cut scenes from Drakengard 3 because Kat's VA is the protagonist, and it was great to watch her curse up a storm. Absolutely fantastic, 10/10, would recommend purely for the cursing.

Good news, though: I can finally play normals again cuz the ping is consistent and it's at a lovely, lovely 33 ms with no lag at all ;w; im so happy

Guest: Hey, thanks so much for the review! I usually pm replies to reviews as thanks, but since you weren't logged in, this will have to do. Appreciate you taking the time to review!


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

* * *

Kat grimaced. "I'm trying to eat breakfast, Crownguard," she said as she spread strawberry jam atop a piece of toast. Today was Saturday, the first day after she and her brother and sister had started living with the Crownguards. Katarina had slept in until about noon, exhausted by the events of the previous day, and the lack of sleep she'd had the night before. She'd gone to bed late, unable to do anything but stare at the ceiling and wonder where her father was, whether he was okay. She still had no clue as to who comprised the Black Rose, and what their plans were—why they'd targeted her father. She'd stared at the silver moonlight streaming in through the windowpanes, and while Kat wasn't religious and wasn't one to believe in miracles, she had made a prayer for her father's safe return.

She'd been woken by the sun's rays shining through the windows. The rose-colored curtains were drawn back, since Katarina had forgotten to draw them closed the night before, and by noon, the sun was shining at just the proper angle to alight upon her face; she opened her eyes and was promptly blinded. She let out a groan as she rolled out from under the covers.

She had made her way down to the kitchen and had been lucky to avoid running into anyone. Katarina had yet to meet Garen's parents, and quite frankly, that suited her just fine. She had no desire to acquaint herself with the police chief and his wife, not when she was guilty of having committed many, many crimes for which Garen's father would gladly put her in jail.

She'd just taken her toast out of the toaster when Garen had come bumbling into the kitchen, going on about their _English project_. Katarina hadn't been paying all that much attention to what he'd been saying. She'd been distracted by his appearance.

He was wearing a simple white t-shirt which hugged him just enough to accentuate his muscles—and boy, did he have some nice muscles. It made sense—he'd been a football star, and he seemed like someone who would keep in shape. The tight-fitting jeans didn't help her focus, either. She had to force herself to look away, and she stared pointedly at the jam throughout their entire conversation.

"We agreed to work on it today, and it's on the schedule. I just wanted to remind you and make sure that, even with all that's going on, we still have this project as our top priority."

 _Top priority, my ass_ , Katarina thought as she bit into her toast and let the sugary jam tingle on her taste buds. Honestly? The project wasn't even on her radar anymore. "Let me eat," she said once she'd swallowed, "in peace, Crownguard."

Garen scratched his ear and then tugged at it. "A-all right," he said, and Kat noticed his ears begin to redden in that way that they did when he was flustered. "But we'll talk after you're finished eating?"

She sighed and nodded. "Fine," she said, and he gave her an awkward thumbs-up.

"Great!" he said. "Um, okay then. I'll... talk to you later, I suppose."

"You suppose," Kat muttered before taking another bite and watching as he scurried out of the kitchen. Well, watching his ass. It was a nice ass, Kat had to admit.

She rolled her eyes as she realized what she'd been thinking, and she finished off her toast wondering if she'd be able to get out of working on the project for today. There were still so many questions she had about her father's disappearance; could she really afford to waste time on this stupid assignment when her father might be dying?

She banished the thought as soon as it occurred to her. No. Her father was _not_ dead—Marcus DuCouteau was not dead. He was still out there, somewhere, and Katarina _would_ find him and bring him home alive. Even if it meant she had to kill a thousand men and women, she would do whatever she had to save her father from the Black Rose.

She threw away the paper plate she'd used, and then checked the dishwasher to see if the dishes inside were clean or not. Somebody had already emptied it, so Katarina dumped the knife she'd used to spread her jam into the machine, and she put the jam back in the refrigerator.

She made her way down the hall, where Garen was waiting for her. He opened his mouth to speak, but Kat stopped him with a raised hand. "I need a toothbrush," she told him.

He got a bemused expression on his face and nodded. "Of course," he said, "Let me grab one. I'm sorry I didn't get you any last night." He moved down the hallway and opened a closet, dug around for a bit, and then produced three toothbrushes. "For your brother and sister. Fresh out of the package." He offered her a wide grin as she took them from him.

She headed up the stairs to her room, with the intention of going to the bathroom and brushing her teeth. She didn't expect Garen to follow her up the stairs, but in hindsight, she really should have; he was just so persistent about things.

"You know," he said as they reached the landing, "I don't understand how you can eat breakfast without brushing your teeth beforehand."

She snorted. "Cuz toothpaste tastes like shit, and I don't want my food to taste like shit," she replied.

"But your mouth is dirty," he countered. She couldn't think of a good response to that, so she decided to just ignore it entirely.

She made it to her room and then closed the door behind her, pretending she didn't see Garen waiting patiently outside with his hands clasped behind his back.

She brushed her teeth and stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was knotted since she hadn't bothered to brush it when she woke up, and she hadn't removed her makeup the night before; as a result, her eyes now bore an uncanny resemblance to those of raccoons. She sighed, opening the bathroom cabinet and looking for things she could use to wash up. The Crownguards seemed to keep things well stocked for their guests and Katarina found all she needed. She decided that she was in need of a shower, and so she marched to the door and opened it to let Garen know. Otherwise, he might just wait outside her door the entire time. The thought was amusing.

"I'm going to shower," she stated, "I'll find you after."

Garen opened his mouth, then closed it and nodded as his face turned the color of a ripe tomato. "All right," he said, his voice slightly higher than normal. Kat worked hard not to laugh at the poor young man as he practically _ran_ down the hallway, away from her room. She also tried not to think of how she found herself enjoying the act of teasing him and eliciting such reactions.

She spent the next fifteen minutes showering and drying her hair. She searched the cabinet for makeup but found none; perhaps the Crownguards weren't as prepared for guests as she'd originally thought. Kat hadn't brought her makeup with her; the night before, she'd been on a mission with a backpack carrying only a few things. She'd had some notebooks so she could work on homework in her spare time, and some weapons, but that was all. She hadn't thought to pack in advance—couldn't have imagined what would happen.

Kat sighed and left the room, intent on finding Garen. So she'd work on the stupid project, but maybe she could convince him to drive her to the store so she could pick up a few things. They were staying here for an indefinite amount of time, so she might as well.

She found him in the drawing room, sitting on a sofa with his sister. He had one leg of his jeans rolled up, and Lux was inspecting his leg with a frown and pursed lips. Kat quirked an eyebrow at the sight, and despite herself, her gaze was drawn to his toned leg. Very nice.

"Doesn't look too bad," Lux said, and Garen nodded as he rolled down his jeans once more.

"Yeah," he said. "Thanks for taking a look."

"It happens more often than I'd like," Lux said softly, reaching out a hand and placing it on her brother's shoulder. "You have to be more careful. Please."

Well, that was certainly a tender gesture she hadn't expected to intrude upon. Kat crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe, smirking as she counted the seconds that passed until they noticed her. One... two... three...

Five seconds later, Garen started as he saw her. "K-Katarina! I-I didn't hear you!" he said, and Lux's eyes went wide as she swiveled to face Kat.

Kat nodded at Garen's leg. "What happened, you trip or something?" she asked.

His eyes grew wide, and he began to stammer, apparently unable to form a coherent sentence. Luckily for him, Lux stepped in to come to his rescue.

"He bumped it against one of the tables. Looks like it'll bruise, but that's all," she said, offering a sweet smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Anyways, I've been meaning to tell you—your sister got a call on the phone this morning from her... what was it, math tutor? A lady named Leblanc."

Kat tensed. _Shit_. "Yeah?"

Lux nodded. "Cassiopeia said she had to go to a tutoring lesson, so she wanted me to tell you something about being sure you scheduled your doctor's appointment. She didn't say which doctor, though."

No, she hadn't specified. That was because the DuCouteaus had a phrase they used among themselves when they were amidst others they didn't want to know—'be sure to schedule your doctor's appointment'. They used it to secretly let the others know that they were on a mission for Noxus—and that if they weren't back by nightfall, to be worried.

So Leblanc had called Cassiopeia in on an assignment. That in and of itself wasn't unusual. Although none of them trusted Leblanc, Cassiopeia was still the woman's protégé, so the two would often work together.

No, what was strange was that Leblanc had known where they were. They had told no one about staying with the Crownguards, and they'd only travelled in vehicles that had never been associated with them before. Leblanc had spies everywhere, but if those agents had been tasked with tracking them, they wouldn't have tracked Garen's truck... would they?

That was confusing, but Kat supposed it was just Leblanc. The woman was the best in her field, after all, able to avoid detection by federal agents and local law enforcement alike, and able to locate even those who'd been hidden for decades. If she wanted to know where someone was, there was no hiding from her.

The thought was a disturbing one. Kat wouldn't want to ever get on that woman's bad side. She couldn't imagine the consequences.

Lux interrupted her thoughts. "Did you want to speak with Garen?"

Kat nodded. "Yeah. You said we're going to the library to study, right?" He nodded. "Can we stop at the store on the way back? I need to buy some stuff, since we're... staying here."

Garen's eyebrows drew together, and he frowned. He looked like he was about to answer in the negative, but Lux spoke before he did, clapping her hands together.

"Of course he'll take you! You should pick up anything you need, and Garen can carry your bags for you!"

Katarina smirked at Garen's aghast expression and she was about to laugh, but then Lux continued.

"It'll be like a mini-date!"

Now it was Kat's turn to look aghast, and she knew her face was heating up just as much as Garen's was.

"W-we aren't—" Garen stammered.

"We're not—" Kat sputtered.

"Except you two aren't dating, or anything!" Lux finished, beaming. Then she burst out laughing. "Sorry, sorry," she managed through laughs, "I _had_ to. The looks on your faces— _priceless_."

Kat scowled. Usually it was an intimidating look on her, but she was fairly sure it was mitigated by the raging blush currently adorning her cheeks.

Garen cleared his throat. "Um... Yes, yes, I'll take you shopping. Are you, uh... Ready to leave?"

Kat sighed. Stupid project. "Let me grab my backpack," she grumbled.

* * *

Kat groaned into the book she had placed on her face. Her head was thrown back across the wooden chair she sat in, and she balanced one of the books she had started to read on her nose after she'd grown bored by the words on the pages. The book was old and smelled musty, and she instantly regretted putting it on her face in the first place. She removed it from her face and sneezed, earning a poorly muffled snort of laughter from the young man sitting across from her.

"Bless you," Garen told her, struggling to contain a laugh. She threw the book at him, and this time he wasn't able to hold back the chuckle that escaped as he caught the book easily from the air, without even bending a page.

"Shut up," she muttered as he offered the book back to her and she took it. Their fingers brushed momentarily, and Kat felt a tingle that rushed up her arm from the contact. She drew away quickly, book in hand.

"I take it that's an uninteresting book?" Garen said with a lopsided grin. Was he teasing her? She was the one who was supposed to tease him—not the other way around. Kat was offended.

"If I have to read about another weed, I'm going to kill something," she muttered darkly as she opened the book and flipped back to the page she'd been on, the pages letting out a soft crinkling sound, stiff with age. Before she'd even begun to read the words on the page, however, Garen's voice spoke softly.

"Sometimes," he said, "weeds can be beautiful."

Kat eyed him carefully as he shuffled his papers and began taking diligent notes from a large tome, some text about the history of England. Katarina glanced down at her own text.

It was about stupid-ass plants. She was supposed to be looking up all the plants and flowers and herbs that were mentioned in the play (Garen had provided her with a terrifyingly long list, god help her). She'd only looked at two entries before deciding that the author of this text must have actually been the single most boring and tedious person to have ever walked the earth. Whoever had decided this was a book worth publishing must have been the second most boring and tedious person.

As she thumbed through the book, looking for the next herb on the list, her thoughts turned to her family. Her father was missing, Talon was off on his own (probably flirting with Garen's sister—ew), and Cassiopeia was off on some mission with Leblanc. And she was stuck here, reading a book about goddamned _plants_ when the Black Rose—

Katarina froze, her eyes widening. She returned her attention to the book once more, this time giving it her full attention, and she flipped through the pages with a frantic intensity that gave her the appearance of one who had little time to spare, and everything to lose, which wasn't far off from how she felt. She searched for the entry for 'rose' and skimmed through its contents, looking for any sort of mention of a black rose.

But there was nothing. Katarina sighed and let the book fall shut, and she rubbed her eyes. "This book is crap," she muttered, and Garen sighed.

" _Language_ ," he said in a weary voice. This was the fifth time he'd asked her to watch her language since they'd arrived at the library. He'd chosen a location far from the children's section this time (he probably thought Kat hadn't noticed, but she had), so he wasn't as adamant about it as he'd been before, but he was still persistent.

Kat rolled her eyes but bit her tongue, and she began reading through more boring-ass passages about flowers and shit she didn't care about. After an hour and a half of this torture, Garen glanced at his watch and announced that it was time for them to leave.

" _Finally_ ," Kat grumbled as she threw the book unceremoniously onto the table.

Garen cleared his throat. "You should probably treat that book a little more carefully," he told her, "since it's old. It might fall apart if you're too rough with it."

"Probably," she admitted, "but I don't care." To emphasize her point, she pushed the book across the table, where it teetered over the edge before Garen scooped it up and placed it upon a small stack of books on the table.

"Time to go shopping," Kat stated as she stretched and stood, and Garen grimaced.

"Time to go shopping," he agreed, and Kat couldn't help but be amused by how extraordinarily off-put he seemed to be by the idea.

They left the library after checking out a few more books, and then they rode Garen's beat-up old blue truck to the nearest supercenter store.

Kat grabbed a cart on the way in and noted that one of the wheels seemed to be acting up, as the cart didn't move in a straight line, but rather veered to the left, and it let out a bit of a squeak as the wheel rolled. She hated when carts acted like this, so she shoved it into Garen's hands, then marched in front of him to take the lead, and leave him to deal with the annoying wheel.

Garen followed her without question (she could tell because of the squeaking that followed her through the store), and Katarina made her way down the aisles, grabbing such essentials as deodorant and mascara. She also made sure to grab things for her siblings, as well, though they could undoubtedly ask Garen to bring them shopping at some other time.

Kat didn't hesitate before grabbing any items; it wasn't as if she couldn't pay for the expenses. So she gathered everything she and her brother and sister would need for the upcoming weeks (perhaps months, if the Crownguards were willing and if Kat wasn't driven insane by Garen's stubbornness), and threw them in the cart.

Finally, Kat moved to the entertainment area and spoke to Garen.

"Do you have any video games at your place?"

Garen shook his head. "Our parents don't really like them. I think Lux plays some online games she calls 'mohbuhs', but—"

"Gotcha," Kat said before heading to the counter and speaking to the clerk, ordering several gaming consoles. She waited as the young clerk gathered the consoles, and it was only when she'd dumped them into the cart that she noticed Garen gaping at her. "What?" she asked.

Garen shook himself, his ears darkening to a deep red. "S-sorry," he said, "I just didn't take you for one to play video games."

She shrugged. "I don't play them that much," she admitted. "But Talon does." He loved video games a lot, actually—played them every day after school, once he'd half-assed his homework, as long as they didn't have any Noxian assignments or meetings to attend to. Kat had started playing with him on occasion when they were younger, since he had told her that they improved hand-eye coordination and reaction time, skills she was constantly trying to hone as an assassin for Noxus. The games were enjoyable and helped to pass time, so Kat thought them worth the investment, especially when it came to keeping Talon entertained.

She grabbed a few games and tossed them into the cart as well. They bought a few more things before they moved to the checkout aisles. With her card, Kat paid for it all without even batting an eye at the outrageously high total, though Garen balked when he caught a glimpse of the high number.

They put it in the back and secured it, and then they were off, Garen taking care to drive extra slowly in order to prevent any of the more fragile items from breaking. Kat appreciated that; she hadn't asked him to drive slower, he'd just done it on his own, knowing some of the things were breakable. It was kind of him. Considerate.

Katarina wasn't sure why, but the realization sent a strange, fuzzy sort of feeling through her chest.

When they made it back to the Crownguard estate, Garen helped unload the truck and set everything up. They put the video game consoles in the downstairs entertainment room, which was meant for guests to watch tv in. The room had two sofas, a large flat screen tv, and several comfortable armchairs, as well as a coffee table.

"Talon can play down here," Garen told her once they'd finished putting the boxes beside the tv. "Nobody comes down here, so he won't be bothered."

"Why do you guys avoid this room?" Kat asked, genuinely curious. It seemed like a perfect setup for the Crownguards to sit around together as a family and enjoy movies or shows, and to bond. While they hadn't had this setup, back at the DuCouteau mansion, they had several rooms that functioned in a similar fashion. Though they seldom had the time to watch movies together, Katarina had treasured any time they were able to do so as a family.

Garen pursed his lips and turned, heading towards the stairs. "We don't... do much," he said over his shoulder softly, and Katarina snorted.

 _The hell does_ that _mean?_ she thought as she followed him upstairs. She'd never seen Garen so unwilling to answer a question before. But she didn't pursue the subject any further; frankly, she wasn't _that_ interested in the Crownguards' living habits one way or another.

They finished unpacking everything within an hour, and Garen offered her a water bottle he had grabbed from the kitchen. She took it and drank, refreshed from the cool taste after having walked around carrying all the supplies and necessities for her and her siblings.

Katarina surveyed the results of their work and nodded in satisfaction. She'd done well, if she did say so herself. She'd gotten all of the school supplies she'd need and put them on her desk, to be organized later. Her makeup and toiletries were all in the drawer, and the bathroom counter had everyday items that the Crownguard family hadn't provided.

"So," Kat said, "up for some friendly video game competition?"

Garen's face lit up, but then his smile faltered. "I... I probably shouldn't," he said. "I haven't finished my pre-cal homework..."

"Who gives a shit about math," Kat said. "Come on, we worked all afternoon, and it's Saturday; we need a break."

Garen hesitated once more, though he was visibly torn between the prospect of having fun and being his usual, super boring self. "I... I don't know," he began, "I haven't played video games since—"

"Did someone say _video games_?"

Kat turned to find Garen's bubbly little sister bounding into the room—literally bounding. What a weirdo.

"Yeah," Kat said. "There are enough controllers for all of us. I—"

"Controllers?" Lux asked, perplexed. Then her eyes widened and, even though Kat would have sworn it would have been impossible for her grin to grow any wider, Lux managed to do just that. "You bought a console?"

"Yeah," Kat said. "I'm trying to convince your brother to play."

Lux turned towards Garen and grabbed his arm, tugging him slightly. "Garen, _please_? Pretty please?" She batted her eyes at him and jutted out her lip, and Garen relented. Seemed like he couldn't resist the puppy eyes Lux was giving him.

"All right," he said, "I suppose playing for just a little bit can't hurt. I can finish my homework later."

"Yay!" Lux said, clapping her hands together excitedly. Kat schooled her features to keep from making a face at the girl's reactions.

The three made their way to the basement and set up the game, and then began to play.

"How do I jump?" Garen asked right before Katarina killed his character.

"O button," she said as the game loaded the next match.

"You should move around more," Lux said, watching from over his shoulder, "that way you're harder to hit. Mobile, y'know?"

Garen frowned and pressed his lips together, narrowing his eyes in concentration as the match started, and Kat found her eyes drawn to his lips, which were pursed. She wondered what they might feel like, pressed against her own—but then she caught herself and turned her attention back to the game, her emotions spiraling in a confused jumble within her. She took out her frustration on poor Garen, and beat up his character easily. His character died within seconds.

He sighed. "I guess I'm not very good at this."

Kat stared pointedly at the screen, ignoring him as best she could. "You just have to practice," she muttered.

"May I try?" Lux asked, and Garen handed her the controller. She took a while selecting her character, looking at the stats and asking Katarina a few questions regarding their combos. Then, she finally selected one, and the two girls started their match.

At first, Kat easily had the lead, attacking Lux's fighter easily and wearing down her health bar. But as the fight progressed, Lux grew more and more difficult to pin down, and when Kat made the mistake of underestimating the speed of Lux's character, Lux took full advantage and landed combo after combo on Kat, who was barely able to retaliate or block the attacks in time. Kat eventually managed to dodge the attacks and land a full combo to finally wipe out Lux's remaining health, but Kat was... stunned.

She turned to the smiling blonde. "Have you played this before?" she asked her, and Lux shook her head.

"Nope. I only play computer games," Lux replied.

Kat couldn't believe it. Her reaction time, her mastery of combos, her ability to predict and time her opponent's moves—it had felt as if Katarina had been playing against someone of equal skill to her, not someone who had never played before. It was... impressive.

"Let me try," a voice spoke from behind them. Garen started and Lux actually jumped, and Kat turned to see her brother push himself off from leaning on the wall behind him.

"How long have you been standing there?" Kat asked, rolling her eyes. Talon had always had a flair for dramatic entrances.

"Long enough to almost see you get your ass handed to you," he said, smirking. Kat couldn't exactly argue that; she _had_ almost lost to a beginner.

She tossed the controller at him, perhaps a little harder than she should have, but he caught it out of the air easily and moved to sit beside Lux. Kat didn't miss the way Lux brightened visibly at the action, and the way Talon leaned ever so slightly so that his shoulder touched hers.

 _Gross_ , Kat thought as she retreated to one of the armchairs and sat next to Garen. She remembered, too late, about her thoughts regarding him previously, and she felt her face heating up despite herself. _God damn it,_ she thought. She tried to reason with herself about it—it was normal for a teenager to think about kissing another teenager—especially one as handsome as Garen. It wasn't that she was actually attracted to him in any way, though she appreciated his good looks; he was too stubborn, too nice, too dedicated to following rules. That was definitely not something she was attracted to in the slightest, the good boy act. Besides, even if she _were_ attracted to him in any way, it would never work out.

She was a Noxian; her family had been in the business of killing people and making millions for generations. Katarina had a specific skillset that she'd honed her entire life—the art of murder, of assassination. Of getting away with it and avoiding police. Garen's father was the police chief of Valoran city. Even if she did like him—and she definitely, definitely _didn't_ —it would be impossible for anything to work out between them. It was… It was just the hormones talking. That's what it had to be.

And so, having resolved the issue, Kat was fully confident that she wouldn't feel any more heart skips or warm feelings when she talked to Garen. And if she did, she could dismiss it as simply a natural teenager's reaction, and nothing more.

She watched as her brother and Lux began to play, and she had to admit that Lux... somehow, Lux was already proficient at the game, after only having observed her and Garen and played it once. Talon was grinning as they fought, evenly matched—a rare sight. Kat was nowhere near as good as her brother, which meant that in the short time she'd played, Lux had already surpassed Kat's skill level.

"She really is a genius," Kat said quietly, so only Garen could hear.

"You don't know the half of it," he said, grinning proudly at his younger sister. She was laughing as she executed a combo, knocking Talon's character to the ground.

It was... strange. This whole situation almost felt surreal. Katarina had hardly given the Crownguards the thought of day just a week ago, but now she was living with them. Playing _video games_ with them. Why they had even extended such an offer perplexed Kat, though she was grateful for the opportunity and the safe haven that their mansion represented. The Black Rose—whoever they were—wouldn't be able to get to them, here.

Kat watched her brother play against Lux, and she couldn't help but notice the way his eyes sparkled in a way she'd never seen before, the way his cheeks flushed ever so slightly. Lux brought this side out of him, and for the first time since Kat had met Talon, he seemed to not only be happy, but enthusiastic, and sharing in that happiness and enthusiasm with the blonde next to him. Kat had never seen him so... _open_ , she realized as he laughed at a comment Lux made regarding his skills.

"I'm glad you guys are here," Garen said, interrupting her thoughts with his deep voice. He turned to face her with those stunning bright blue eyes, and Kat almost felt lost in them as he spoke, falling into his gaze and the deep, low rumble of his voice. "I haven't seen Lux have this much fun since we were kids." He inclined his head. "Thank you."

Kat blinked, taken aback and unsure of how to respond to such a heartfelt statement. "It's... just a game."

"I know," Garen said. He hesitated before reaching out and, when she didn't resist, taking her hand. "But you don't know how much it means to me, to see my sister this happy. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart." Katarina swallowed as he squeezed her hand once before letting go, and she drew her hand back slowly, her other hand absentmindedly tracing the warmth from his palm that still lingered on her skin.

"You're welcome, I guess," she mumbled. Then she shook her head and stood carefully, so as to not disturb their siblings. There was little chance of that, seeing as how the two were entirely focused on the game, but still. She stretched, then nodded towards Garen. "I'm bored," she complained, "I'm going for a walk."

"Do you want some company?" he asked, and her heart skipped a beat. _Stupid hormones_ , Kat thought, and she shook her head.

"Nah," she told him. She definitely did _not_ want him to accompany her, given the way her heart couldn't seem to sit still and beat regularly when he was around. And Kat wanted some time alone, some time to think, without having to worry about the strange fuzzy feelings she was starting to experience more and more frequently around Garen.

"All right," Garen said before returning his attention to his sister and Talon.

Kat climbed the stairs slowly, letting her fingers hover over the wooden railing as she ascended. She made her way to the front door, then left, surprised that the door had been unlocked. Then again, this was a nice neighborhood, so perhaps the Crownguards werent in the habit of locking up. What a luxury. Kat snorted as she began walking along the paved sidewalk, kicking a stray piece of gravel down the path ahead of her and watching it bounce along the cracks.

She'd lived in a good neighborhood, too; the DuCouteau estate was located in one of the oldest and safest neighborhoods in town. But then, it was also the _DuCouteau_ household, and her family had made many enemies in their Noxian dealings. Locking the door wasn't just a habit, at her house—it was a necessity.

But of course, the Crownguards weren't part of any gangs; even if Garen's father was affiliated with Demacia, the only enemies that would net him would be Noxian High Command. And a simple police chief—who had subordinates who could be bribed—that wasn't even on High Command's radar. It wasn't as if the Crownguards had powerful enemies after them.

Enemies who would kidnap, torture... maybe even kill them. The Crownguards didn't have enemies like the Black Rose. Kat balled her hands into fists, fingernails digging into skin, hard, and she glared at the stray pebble before kicking it with enough force to send it flying over the street and into the yard across the way, where it was lost among the countless blades of grass.

Kat stuffed her hands into her pockets and continued walking, her glare turned towards the pavement.

She's taken the book with the DuCouteau family history from the safe, and she'd stuffed it in her room last night. Today, she'd bought a small safe when Garen had taken her shopping, and she intended to put it in there for safekeeping. She hadn't done it yet, but Kat doubted that would be an issue; nobody was going to break into the Crownguard home. Even if they did, there were enough security cameras around the perimeter that there would be a close up of any culprit's face. Kat had counted at least twenty on her way out of the front of the house and to the sidewalk in front. Some were out in the open, but there were several that were hidden. One had even been cleverly disguised as a flower, though the way it moved from side to side against the wind gave its presence away to Kat.

There weren't any cameras in their private quarters, which was a relief; but it was a small comfort to her. She'd grown up learning to avoid being watched; being surrounded by cameras and police was more than just uncomfortable—it was invasive. Kat needed a breath of fresh air, to take a step away from the Crownguards and their goodness and their cameras and their… Crownguard-y-ness.

She walked down the streets aimlessly, hands in her pockets, watching any stray passerby or cars that crossed her path. There went a businessman dressed in a suit, driving his new Mercedes. There went an older woman walking her dog, giving Kat a disapproving look from under her thick-rimmed glasses.

She didn't know what she'd done to deserve such a glare, but Kat glared right back until the woman was out of sight, then continued on her way, shoulders slumped. She needed to talk to Cass and Talon. They needed to figure out a plan to find their father and to bring him home. To find the Black Rose... Kat's lips thinned as she pressed them together, anger rising within her at the thought of the organization that had stolen her father from her and her siblings. If she found them... she would kill them for what they'd done. Slowly. Painfully.

Kat turned a corner and found herself near a park. It was nearing evening, and there were only a small handful of kids playing on the equipment. Two of them threw a ball between them as their mothers watched from a bench nearby.

Kat's heart constricted at the sight, and unbidden, thoughts of her own late mother returned to her. Picnics, games of tag, laughter... Her scar burned. Kat banished the memories, her chest feeling hollow as her thoughts returned to her father. She only had one parent left. She wouldn't let him be killed—she would save him.

"They're cute, aren't they?" asked a familiar voice, and Kat tensed before spinning around, a frown of annoyance on her features.

"I said I didn't want company," she said, and Garen had the grace to look uncomfortable.

"I know," he admitted. "But it's getting late, and I'm going to get dinner started soon. Nothing fancy. Just leftovers." He met her gaze and shoved his hands in his own pockets. "I also... I also wanted to ask you something."

She frowned, and waited for him to continue.

He took a deep breath. "I... when you left, you seemed a little... upset. If that was something I caused, I just want to apologize for it."

Kat was quiet for several moments before letting out a sigh that bore burdens far too heavy for her young shoulders. "It's not you," she said, and tried to find the words to express herself adequately without letting him know the truth of the situation she was in. "I'm... just worried."

"About your family?" he asked, and after some slight hesitation on her part, she nodded.

"I don't know who those men were," she admitted, "I don't know what they wanted with me or my family." Kat's voice trailed off, and she took a deep breath to collect herself before her emotions made themselves too known. "I need to know. I need to find out. Those men we captured are the key to figuring out what's going on." She met his eyes again, and she sighed. "It has nothing to do with you. I'm just… frustrated."

Garen seemed to struggle with something before sighing. "Katarina," he said, "there's something I need to tell you." He shifted from side to side.

"What?" she asked.

"Those men... Last night, they were murdered."

Kat's eyes widened, and her breath left her as if she'd been punched in the gut. " _What_?" No. Nonononono no _no_. They were the only lead she had to finding the Black Rose. They were her only clue as to her father's whereabouts... And… and they were dead?

"Last night, the police station was infiltrated by a woman... The police don't know who she was. She disabled all of the security measures in place, slipped past the guards—"

"What the _hell_?!" Kat cried, and Garen glanced worriedly at the children on the playground. The mothers were eyeing the pair worriedly and gathering the kids up to take them home. Kat didn't give a shit what they thought was going on as a surge of anger rolled through her. She grabbed Garen's shirt and closed the distance between them, looking deep into his eyes, her free hand clenched into a fist just waiting to fly into his face. "You're telling me that this person just screwed over the police—just walked right by them?"

"I'm sorry." Garen raised his hands and carefully pried Kat's hand off of his shirt, his other hand moving to her fist. He tried to lower it, but she didn't let him. He swallowed. "I don't know how they did it, and I don't know why—but I'm sorry."

Actions, not words—that was a phrase her father had taught her, a phrase she lived by. Words meant nothing—but actions meant everything. His apology was empty—it wouldn't bring back those men.

"Fuck you!" Kat yelled, wrenching her hand free from his and taking a step back, away from him. "You got me mixed up with the cops, and now you can't even keep good on your promise to help. Thanks a whole fucking lot, Crownguard."

"Katarina, I'm sorry, but—"

"Just shut up!" she yelled. "You always apologize. You always say you're sorry, as if that's going to fix anything." Those empty words wouldn't get him anywhere. "Apologies don't matter in the real world, Crownguard. Those men are dead, and I still don't know who they are, or where they came from, or why they were even in the fucking safe house in the first place. Your stupid _apology_ won't change that! You think you can just fix the world with an 'I'm sorry'? That's not how it works. That's not how it fucking works. 'I'm sorry' means _nothing_." Her breath was ragged, and her nails were biting into her palms hard enough to draw blood in her curled fists, and she would have kept yelling had Garen's brows not drawn together, and a dark look crossed his features. She must have struck a nerve, because the tone in which he spoke was scathing.

"You think I don't know that?" he asked quietly. "You think I don't _wish_ I could change that? You think I don't care that those men died—that they broke into your home, and were murdered because they knew something? I'm not stupid, Kat—I know there's more going on here than you're letting on. You say I don't understand how the world works, but _you're_ the one who's deluded about the way the world works, Katarina." He narrowed his eyes. "Sometimes, there are good people who just want to do the _right thing,_ despite everyone telling them not to; and sometimes, people screw up! So I'm sorry that I screwed up, all right? I'm sorry that I couldn't stop that woman, and I'm sorry that you're caught up in this mess. But don't think for a moment that I don't mean every single word of my apology, that I don't wish fervently that I could change this."

Oh, fuck that.

Kat grit her teeth and glared at him, and he glared back, his blue eyes alight with an intensity sparking behind them. "You're an idiot, Crownguard," she spat. "Don't pretend like you're some tragic hero who tried his hardest, but failed—"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Garen countered, his voice raised. "I'm just trying to do right by you, and—"

"What if I don't _want_ you to 'do right by me'" she cried. "What if I just want you to leave me the _fuck_ alone?!"

Garen ground his teeth and pressed his lips together, his nostrils flaring as she panted from her outburst, her shoulders rising and falling. Sweat ran down her back, and her nails had most definitely drawn blood from her hand at this point; Katarina made a mental effort to release some of the pressure in her fist, relieving the stinging pain that the injury caused.

"If that's what you want," Garen said roughly, "then all you need to do is _ask_."

She narrowed her eyes, their gazes never leaving one another. "Then will you leave me the _fuck_ alone, Crownguard?" she spat.

" _Gladly_ ," he returned with just as much venom in his voice, and he spun on his heel and stormed out of the park, back in the direction of his house.

Once he had turned the corner and was out of sight, Kat forced her fists to unclench, and she let out a hiss of pain as she raised her hands and observed the damage she'd done with her nails. Nothing too serious, but the pain would be annoying as they healed, and her hands would be tender for a day or two.

As her breathing evened and she started to process the things she'd said in the heat of the moment, Katarina realized with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she'd screwed up again. She was staying with the Crownguards, and she'd just gotten into a shouting match with Garen. That didn't bode well. If she'd just lost the hospitality of Garen's family, it would mean she and her siblings would be out of a place to live. They'd be on their own, for real this time, and with dangerous people after them, this could prove to be the worst mistake of her life.

And even though she was still upset about the three men being killed, she knew Garen was right; it wasn't his fault.

Katarina had to fix this. But she didn't know how. Garen was upset, and rightfully so—she'd yelled at him and struck all the right nerves, it seemed. Kat let out a groan of annoyance and spun around, stalking towards the nearest tree and kicking it with as much force as she could. Her foot stung on impact, and she hopped on one foot and cursed. That wasn't the brightest thing she'd ever done, she had to admit, but it _had_ helped to relieve some of her pent-up frustration... a little bit.

It was as she was hopping, holding onto her foot, that a car pulled up beside her—a familiar, dark one with tinted windows. The window on the passenger side rolled down, and Katarina met green eyes that almost mirrored her own.

"Kat, what in the _world_ are you doing?" Cassiopeia asked, confusion evident in her tone and worry etched on her face.

"Being a fucking idiot," Kat muttered. She trained her eyes past Cass to the driver's side and beheld Leblanc, smirking.

"Hello, Katarina," Leblanc said, her voice smooth as silk.

Kat narrowed her eyes and inclined her head in greeting. "Leblanc," she said.

Leblanc unlocked the car and gestured towards the backseat. "Come, Katarina. I was just driving your sister back to your... new residence. I'll take you, as well."

Kat hesitated before giving in and taking her seat in the back of the car. Leblanc didn't move, though. Instead, she put the car in park and adjusted the rearview mirror so that she could see Katarina; all that Kat could see of _her_ were her amber eyes in the mirror.

"Your sister tells me that your father has gone missing, and the three of you have no idea where he might have gone."

Kat glanced towards her sister before returning her gaze to the mirror and meeting those shifty eyes. So Cass had lied to Leblanc; she would go along with the lie, then. "Yeah," Kat said.

"Cassiopeia has told me that your house was broken into."

"It was, yeah," Kat said.

"And now the police are investigating and have you staying under the watchful eye of the police chief," Leblanc concluded. "It seems to me that they don't see this as a normal burglary."

"Our dad's missing. Do _you_ think it's a normal burglary?" Kat snapped. She realized after the words had left that they were highly inappropriate to say to Leblanc, a powerful member of High Command. "I meant no disrespect—" she began, but Leblanc waved it off.

"Oh, no. You're right," she replied. "You'd be a fool to think otherwise. For you and your siblings to suspect foul play is expected... But for the police to suspect foul play, when you haven't yet informed them of your father's disappearance? _That_ is what's causing me worry." Leblanc lifted her hand and ran it along the steering wheel, tracing the dark leather with the tip of one of her sharp, pointed nails. "The problem here is that the police should have no reason to suspect you three outside of rumors. So why have they gone to such measures to keep an eye on you?"

Kat shrugged. "Luxanna Crownguard's a trusting idiot," she murmured. "She's the one who invited us."

"So I've been told," Leblanc said. "Tell me, Katarina... Do you think there's anything odd about the two Crownguard children? Anything... _unique_ about the way they behave?"

Kat narrowed her eyes. What was Leblanc getting at? Lux was a genius and an airhead, but she was also just, what, sixteen? Garen was a stubborn, righteous ass, but he was nice. They were both nice. Disgustingly so. Kat couldn't figure out what Leblanc was hinting at. "No," she said. "They're normal."

Leblanc let out a long laugh, and Kat felt goosebumps rise along her arms and neck at the cold sound. "The Crownguards are too trusting for their own good. That will get them killed someday," Leblanc said, and Kat noticed her sister stiffen from the corner of her eye. Leblanc changed gears and began heading down the street, and within a minute, they were at the Crownguard residence.

Kat made to leave, and unlocked the car door, but then it clicked shut once more, and Kat turned her gaze to Leblanc, those eyes staring at her from the mirror once more; cold, unreadable.

"Katarina," Leblanc said, her tone the same as if she were commenting on the weather, "be a dear and tomorrow, after you've finished with your classes, fetch your brother and meet me outside of the school."

Kat's heart pounded in her ears as understanding set in. Leblanc wanted her and Talon; she had a mission for them. Whatever Leblanc wanted, they would have to do it; they were Noxians, after all. Katarina didn't wonder what the mission would entail. There was only one reason why she would need Kat and Talon, the two best assassins in all of Noxus, after their father. And with their father missing… "Of course," Kat said.

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow, then," Leblanc said, unlocking the car door with a quick flick of her finger on the controls, and Kat couldn't scramble out of the vehicle fast enough. Cassiopeia, as usual, left with far more grace and poise than Kat could ever muster, and bid farewell to her mentor with a wave as Leblanc drove away.

Once her car was out of sight, though, Cass's smile dropped and she pressed her lips together tightly. It was then that Kat noticed how pale her sister was; Cass was fair, yes, but now... She was _unusually_ pale, almost pasty, and this in addition to the way her eyes narrowed told Kat that something was wrong.

"Cass—" Kat began, but Cass shook her head violently.

"Not now," she said. "Later."

Kat eyed her sister with concern; she'd never seen Cass so shaken up before. Whatever had happened, Leblanc must have been involved, and that realization didn't make Kat any less worried. She followed Cass into the Crownguard mansion.

"Find Talon," Cass said as she opened the door, "he needs to hear this, as well."

Kat nodded and headed to the basement. Talon and Lux were still playing video games, though they'd switched to a different game and were working as a team. Katarina entered the room just as Talon let out a guffaw of laughter, and his character died as Lux giggled. Kat crossed her arms and cleared her throat.

"Sorry to interrupt," Kat said, and both of the teenagers jumped before turning to face her. "I need to steal Talon from you."

Talon rose to his feet as Lux paused the game, and he gave Kat a questioning glance. When she wasn't forthcoming with a reason behind needing him, he bent over Lux and whispered something in her ear; the blonde's cheeks were flushed, and she nodded enthusiastically as Talon grinned at her, and then he made his way towards Kat.

As he followed her up the stairs, Kat grimaced. "I don't even want to know what you said to her to make her blush like that," she muttered, and Talon's face reddened.

"I-it's not—"

" _Don't_ want to know," Kat said, a little louder than needed, the grimace on her face deepening at the thought of her brother flirting with Garen's little sister. That was just… gross.

They made it to Cassiopeia's room, and after Cass let them in, Kat threw herself onto her sister's bed face first and splayed herself out on the blankets, letting out a groan.

"Fuck everything," Kat grumbled as Cass locked the door and gave her a disapproving stare.

"You have _no_ manners, Kat," Cass chided as she took a seat at the edge of the bed, but her heart wasn't in the rebuke. Talon opted to sit on the floor and lean against the wall facing his sisters. Why he would choose to sit on the _floor_ over a comfy bed, Kat had no idea; sometimes, Kat just didn't understand her brother.

The silence pervading the room made Kat serious once more, and she rolled over so that she could face her sister, and she rose to a sitting position. "Sorry," she said quietly. "What was it you wanted to talk to us about?"

Cass took a deep breath. "It's... it's about Leblanc."

"What about her?" Talon asked, wearing an expression of disinterest.

" We can't trust her."

"That's a given," Talon said. "Is that all?"

Kat frowned. "What do you mean?"

Cassiopeia shot Talon a glare before continuing. "What I _mean_ is that we cannot trust her, under any circumstance. To begin with, she knew we were here even though we've told no one. She's spying on us—what reason would she have to spy on us? Not only that, but she took me on a mission today and picked me up and drove me from here. She wants us to _know_ that she's watching us. Any time we leave this house, we are under her surveillance."

"She has spies everywhere," Talon said, "so what? It's always been like that."

Cassiopeia turned livid. " _No_ ," she said. "It _hasn't_ always been like that. You aren't giving her enough credit—you aren't thinking the way she does. She was making a statement today, a _warning_.

"This morning, after collecting me, we went down to the docks and into a warehouse. Ten men were chained to chairs. Ten. She tortured them and forced me to watch," Cass said, anger clear on her face by the slight blush on her cheeks; but Kat remembered how pale her sister had been earlier, and knew that there was fear under that frown as well. "She tortured them to get information out of them. That's not unusual; what _is_ unusual is the length of time she took to do it, the amount of pain she inflicted on them. _Six hours_."

Cassiopeia took a ragged breath, her shoulders heaving. "Six hours," she repeated, "even though she got the info she wanted after the first hour."

Kat swallowed. Cass had never spoken of the missions she had undertaken as Leblanc's protégé, under Leblanc's supervision. Kat had suspected that torture might be one of the techniques Leblanc had showed Cass, and her sister had just confirmed that it was so. But... Six hours of torture? Kat had seen the fruits of Leblanc's mentorship in Cass the other day, when it had only taken a minute for her to get info out of their targets. She could only imagine it would take Leblanc even less time... if she wanted. Extended periods of torture… It wasn't unheard of, but the screams of ten men, for six full hours... Kat knew now why her sister had been so shaken, so disturbed, when she'd gotten back.

"Then she killed them slowly, painfully," Cass said quietly. "It took another three hours for them to die."

Kat was horrified. Yes, she was a Noxian, and she'd done horrible things and had killed dozens of people, some of them in painful ways. But... _Nine hours_? Nine hours of torture and pain, and for what? Now she knew why Cass had been so pale; Leblanc had made her watch, or perhaps conduct, the entire thing.

"Why?" Kat asked.

Cass closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. "I said it before—it's a warning." She opened her eyes and directed them towards her siblings in turn. "She knows we're hiding something. She might even be part of the Black Rose. I don't know why, exactly, she sent this message, but the message was clear—there are consequences for crossing her. And she wants to make sure we know that."

Kat swallowed and felt the blood drain from her face. Leblanc was a woman she never wanted to have as her enemy; she was unreadable, unpredictable, and knew... everything.

"But I thought the Black Rose was a group that gained power from Swain's rise? Leblanc didn't benefit," Talon said.

"You're right," Cass admitted. "It's possible she isn't part of the Black Rose at all. She had no reason to support Swain, and she was close to the Darkwills. But that doesn't matter right now; what _does_ is that Leblanc clearly made a show of power today and wanted to ensure that we understood it for what it was. She wants us to know that she could do that to us just as easily, and she has no reservations about or qualms with using... extreme measures."

 _'Extreme measures' is a nice way of putting 'despicably long and cruel and unusual torture'_ , Kat thought.

"But why wouldn't she just kill us?" Talon asked. He seemed paler than usual, his frown deeper than usual; clearly, the thought of Leblanc as their enemy had shaken him just as much as it had shaken Kat. "If she suspects something, why not just kill us?"

"Because we're here," Cass said. "We're under the Crownguard's protection. This place is so secure, not even her spies could get in without being exposed. And as long as we're staying here, she can't kill us, or else it would attract too much attention. Leblanc doesn't want attention drawn to her or her agents. That's not how secrets remain secret," Cass reasoned. "As long as we stay here, we're safe. As long as the Crownguards allow us to remain under their roof, _we're safe_."

Kat felt her stomach drop and her breath leave her in a whoosh, and she must have made some sort of choking sound, because Cass turned to her, eyes wide.

"I..." Kat began, remembering her argument with Garen earlier in the park. "I might... have screwed that up."

" _What_?" Cass nearly screeched, and for the first time, Kat saw real fear in her sister's eyes.

"I... Garen and I had an argument, earlier..." Kat mumbled. "I... I upset him pretty badly... I don't know if—if he'll let us—"

A knock on the door interrupted them. Kat swallowed, and Cass issued her a withering glare before standing, straightening her dress, and opening the door.

Lux stood in the hallway with a cheerful smile, oblivious to the tense conversation she'd interrupted. "Dinner's ready!" she said brightly. "Garen wanted me to fetch you all so we could eat it before it gets cold."

Kat shared a cautious glance with her siblings before Cassiopeia smiled. "Thank you, Lux!" she chirped. "We'll be right down!"

Lux grinned and waved before skipping down the hallway, and Cass closed the door and spun around, the glare on her features more vicious than Kat had ever seen.

"Katarina, once we've finished eating, you will go to Garen and you will _apologize_ to him; I don't give a damn who was in the right. You'll do _whatever it takes_ to make sure he isn't upset, do you understand? We can't afford to lose our good standing with the Crownguards—we _can't_. Do you understand?"

Kat couldn't meet her sister's eyes. "I understand," she said quietly. And she did. If Leblanc was after them, Cass wasn't exaggerating in the slightest—if the Crownguards kicked them out, they were as good as dead. So she would have to suck it up and apologize. She could do that. She had to.

But she didn't have to sit here any longer and withstand the glare her sister had turned on her. Kat stood swiftly and marched to the door, wrenching it open roughly, never glancing back towards her siblings. She closed the door with a little more force than necessary and stomped her way down the stairs and to the kitchen, where she came upon a table filled with food. ' _Leftovers' he said_ , she thought dazedly.

There was a veritable feast laid out on the table before her. There were vegetables of all kinds, a pot of still-steaming soup, a roast chicken, mashed potatoes, salad, steaks. _This_ was what the Crownguards considered _leftovers_? As the heir to a wealthy family, Kat was no stranger to fine meals, but when she thought of leftovers, she didn't think of anything quite so... _much_.

And there was Garen, wearing an apron and those blue oven mitts, bent low so as to retrieve a pie from the oven. He straightened, pie in hand, and turned around, and when their eyes met, Kat thought she saw a scowl on his face before it was quickly wiped away, replaced by a painfully neutral expression.

"Apple pie," he said as he placed it on the counter to cool, and he closed the oven, removed the mitts, and turned the oven off.

"This is..." Kat said, eyeing the food.

"Not very healthy, I know," Garen said. "I didn't have fish, and I didn't have time for the usual recipes I make."

"You cook?" Katarina asked, surprise evident in her tone, and he nodded.

"A bit," he said, and then he gestured to the table for her to sit.

She did so, and her stomach let out a growl. Garen didn't seem to have heard, thankfully—god, that would have been embarrassing—for he made his way to the cupboard and retrieved plates and cups, and he set the table for everyone.

Kat swallowed, remembering Cassiopeia's words from earlier. "Thank you," she said awkwardly, the words feeling foreign on her tongue.

"You're welcome," Garen said stiffly, and he didn't meet her eyes. That couldn't be a good sign. She really needed to fix this, but before she could open her mouth to speak, Lux skipped into the kitchen with Katarina's siblings in tow.

"He's a great cook!" Lux said proudly as Talon's jaw dropped at the sight of the food. "Even though these are mostly leftovers, it'll still taste fresh!"

"Leftovers," Cass said weakly in much the same way Katarina had thought it just moments before. The DuCouteau siblings took their seats besides one another, to Katarina's left, and Lux and Garen sat across from her. Throughout the meal, Lux chatted animatedly with Cassiopeia about school gossip, and Talon chimed in every once in a while just to confirm or deny certain rumors. But Kat found herself unable to bring herself to care about the conversation, her mind instead focusing on the young man seated across from her who ate in silence, picking at his food occasionally.

Kat herself was enjoying the meal. Lux hadn't been lying when she'd said the food would taste fresh; it was well-seasoned and cooked to perfection. It made Kat wonder how this football star had learned to cook so well. She couldn't cook for shit. _Maybe_ she could make spaghetti. Maybe.

Once everyone had finished their meal, Garen moved to put away the dishes, and the others retired to the drawing room. Kat lingered, fiddling with some of the dishes before taking some and helping Garen put everything away in silence.

Finally, Kat broke it. "About earlier," she said quietly. "I shouldn't have yelled at you." She glanced towards him, hoping for a reaction.

He sighed before turning to face her. "I shouldn't have yelled at you, either," he said. "I... I've been under some stress, and I should have kept my composure, but I didn't. I'm sorry, Katarina."

"It's my fault," Kat said, the words leaving her before she even realized she was speaking, and she couldn't meet his eyes. She'd thought she would leave it at a simple apology, but now that she was talking, she found she couldn't stop. "I've been under a lot of stress, too, and I took it out on you, and I know I shouldn't have done that because you've been nothing but nice and kind to us, and I don't know why, but I think that's part of what made me upset—that I don't know why you're so nice. And I get angry when I don't know why things are happening, and I..." Kat had to stop, as she was out of breath, but she took a deep breath and rushed on, before the courage to speak the next words left her. She could feel him watching her as she cotinued. "And I'm sorry. I'm sorry for yelling at you, I'm sorry for being a bitch, I'm sorry for not treating you right. I'm sorry." She finally looked up and met his eyes.

And she was surprised to find them crinkled at the edges, a soft smile on his lips, and her breath was once more gone, but for an entirely different reason as those electrifying, clear blue eyes stared into her own emerald ones.

"I accept your apology, Katarina," he said, "as long as you accept mine."

Kat forced herself to inhale, to exhale, and she wet her suddenly dry lips. "Okay," she breathed.

"But for the record, you're not a… a b—… A bit—" he stumbled over the word, and the tension in the room lifted as Kat realized he couldn't bring himself to say the word 'bitch', and she laughed.

"Thanks, Crownguard," she said quietly once her laughter had subsided.

Though his ears were red, Garen gave her a smile. "Actually, I have one condition," he said.

She owed him that much.

"Call me Garen from now on, please," he said, and his ears turned just a slightly darker shade of red, and Kat snorted.

"Fine," she said. "You've got a deal, _Garen_."

* * *

A/N: Alternative title: A whole chapter of just Kat's POV, which means lots of f-bombs. Oops? This was a long chapter. Hope it was worth the wait. I barely edited this, since I wanted to post it. Let me know if there are any glaring errors or if there's something like 'insert word' or 'blahblah'. I write on my phone, so I do that sometimes, and I might've missed something since I... didn't really edit this. I basically have nothing written past this point, so it's going to take me at least until winter break to post another chapter.

In other news, the Kat rework looks so fun. She's harder, that's for sure, but she still seems fun. I like the daggers. And the new VFX are pretty nice, especially her ult. I've only tried her in custom games, though, not against real players. I'm not confident enough to. Talon also looks SO FUN. I tried him in a custom, and it's gonna take some getting used to without his old e, but I like his new e soooo much more. I tried Leblanc, but I'm not very good with her in the first place, so besides being able to feel the new delay for going back with w, I can't really say much about her.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

* * *

Lux was seated at a table, leaning her chin on her hand, wishing desperately to be anywhere else but here. But she was stuck; the higher-ups had called her in, and she had to listen to them to about their usual discussions regarding politics and economics and funding, until finally, _finally_ , they got to the topic they'd called her here for.

"Luxanna," Mayor Lightshield said. Beside him sat his son, Jarvan, Garen's best friend, and he looked equally as bored as Lux felt. He shared a pained glance with her before they both turned their attention to his father, who sat at the head of the table. As the leader of Demacia, the mayor was granted the seat at the head. "Do you recall the device you helped my son retrieve from the Westside Noxian hideout?"

 _No, I'm absolutely incompetent and forgot about the 'device'_ , Lux thought, carefully schooling her features so that none of her annoyance with this issue showed. "Of course, sir," she said.

"You recall that we sent it to Heimerdinger for testing, correct?"

Lux wanted to scowl, but she didn't. "Yes, I do," she replied. Oh, she had told them to just give her the stupid _phone_ that Garen had managed to retrieve. Lux was good with technology; she always had been. Heimerdinger was better, of course, when it came to mechanical or chemical or nuclear engineering (well what did you expect, when he had multiple PHDs and dozens of years of experience on her? When she was as old as him, she expected to have more degrees than that). But when it came to _phones_ , it was more involved than just mechanics or chemicals; it became about software, about programming. Lux knew how to hack into a phone better than anyone alive. Given an hour, max, she could produce any worthwhile info stored in the phone.

And that was what the higher-ups wanted—information they could use against Noxus. Garen and Jarvan hadn't been able to get the briefcase—but they _had_ gotten the phone. It had to have valuable information on it, since it was in the same vault as the briefcase. Contacts, notes, phone numbers—something.

But instead of giving the phone to her, the higher-ups had given it to Heimerdinger. Lux had been furious when she'd found out. Just because Demacia had recently begun collaborating with the old, bearded genius didn't mean that they had to trust the man with _everything_ technology-related. It was a slap in the face to her.

"We've received word from him that he's having some trouble with it," the mayor told her.

 _Of course he is_ , she thought, though her face remained carefully neutral.

"We were hoping that you could... share some of your ideas with him, help, ah, guide him through the process."

So they wanted her to tell Heimerdinger how to hack a phone, instead of letting Lux just hack it herself. She felt an intense desire to storm out of the room; she quelled her impulse, though, and instead offered a smile that she couldn't quite force to meet her eyes. "Sure," she said.

The meeting was adjourned, and Lux was finally, _finally_ , dismissed. She couldn't leave the room quickly enough. The place had grown stifling, and Lux wanted nothing more but to walk outside and get a breath of fresh air to cool off.

She heard his footsteps approaching her from behind and recognized them without needing to turn around. They'd known each other since the day she was born, after all.

"Sorry about what happened in there," Jarvan said as he made his way to her side. "I tried to talk my dad into just giving you the damn thing, but... Well, you know how it is."

Lux let out a sigh. "Yeah," she admitted, "I know." Demacia had a lot of politics to deal with, a lot of people to please, and even more people to avoid angering. It was a gang, after all, despite the group's good intentions. Demacia needed to keep its allies, and its new relationship with the Piltoverian government was one of those relationships it needed to strengthen. By giving Heimerdinger this task, it was helping to solidify that connection.

Yes, Lux knew how it was. That didn't mean she had to like it. "It's just... frustrating," she admitted, and Jarvan let out a short chuckle.

"I hear you," he said. Then his smile abated, replaced with a frown. "Lux, is it true that the Crownguards are harboring the DuCouteaus?"

Lux nodded, knowing where this was going. "Yep," she said, bracing herself for the speech she was about to receive.

Jarvan drew a deep breath. "Lux, I know you probably have your reasons, but the DuCouteau family is extremely dangerous. Harboring murderers and thieves—"

" _Potential_ murderers and thieves," Lux interjected, and Jarvan huffed, clearly not appreciative of the interruption.

" _Potential_ , then," he corrected. "Doesn't matter. They're dangerous—you know they're Noxians, even if we don't have enough info to pin them yet."

Lux crossed her arms. "That's why I invited them," she said. Before Jarvan could interrupt, she hurried to continue. "I've been working on Talon DuCouteau for a while now. I've gained his trust, and it's clear that he likes me. Now I have them under our roof, and I have surveillance of them twenty-four seven. We know their movements, their schedules, who they talk to, when they talk. I managed to retrieve some other records from their personal files and I'm sorting through those. It's just a matter of time, now, Jarvan. I'll get something on them."

"You're... spying on them," Jarvan realized.

"Duh," Lux said. "But there's more going on here. They're running from someone—from something. I don't know what yet. But it's related to the police break-in the night before last. Did you read my report?"

Jarvan nodded, a contemplative look crossing his features. "Yeah, I read it. All the higher ups did. Whoever that woman was, she managed to get through all of the station's security, and she didn't show up on the new mask scanners from Heimerdinger."

"Exactly. Whoever we're dealing with is utilizing extremely advanced technology, and it seems as if they're after the DuCouteaus. The question is, _why_? That's why I invited them to the house, that's why I'm watching them and gaining their trust. I want answers, Jarvan, and as of right now, the DuCouteaus are our only clue."

Jarvan shook his head. "I still don't like it. Any one of them could kill you or Garen in your sleep."

"I'm a light sleeper. So's Garen," Lux said, waving her hand dismissively at Jarvan's words. He needn't be worried. "Besides, if they wanted us dead, they'd have killed us already. The fact that they haven't is telling enough. They need us. We may be watching their every move, and I'm sure they're aware of that, but they're still here. They're still cooperating. Which means they need the safety we provide."

Jarvan made a humming noise in the back of his throat as he considered her words. "So you're saying that... you're positive _they_ won't harm you?"

"Yup!" Lux said. Well, mostly positive; there was always the chance that this was all some elaborate scheme by the Noxians to make them let their guards down, but Lux highly doubted that was the case.

"What if that woman comes after them? The one from the station? What if she cuts all the power to your house just like she did before, and they kill you? Whoever they're running from might come after you. I don't like it, Lux. I can't... I don't want to see you two hurt."

He raised a valid concern, Lux knew. Not a particularly worrying one, but valid. She appreciated the concern on her and Garen's behalf. "Don't worry," Lux said. "I've got a system set up. There's no way that woman can shut down the power in our home."

Jarvan scratched his chin, and for the first time, Lux noticed that his stubble was a little rougher than usual, as if he hadn't shaved properly. She took in his appearance and noted some… interesting details.

"You've got quite the five o' clock shadow," Lux said, uncrossing her arms and nodding towards his stubble. Jarvan's eyes widened and his face turned slightly red.

"I... I know," he mumbled. "I... woke up late."

Lux smiled a shit-eating grin as she watched her friend fidget. "Shyvana keep you up?" she teased, and his blush deepened.

" _Lux_ ," he said, and she let out a giggle.

Shyvana was fairly new to Demacia. She'd grown up in a pretty bad part of town, and she'd been working a part-time job at a rock climbing gym since she'd turned old enough to legally work. That's where Jarvan had met her.

About a year ago, Jarvan and Garen had gone on some kind of crazy fitness regime, insisting they needed to work out more than usual in order to get stronger. It had been right after an incident where they'd both nearly died, Lux knew, so that was probably the reason behind it. The new routine they were trying out included rock climbing, and so Jarvan and her brother had gone to the nearest rock climbing gym and started, well, climbing.

Jarvan said it had been love at first sight, though Garen was wont to snort at the statement. Jarvan had gone there every day after that, just to keep interacting with Shyvana. They'd started dating—secretly, of course. But when Shyvana had noticed Jarvan's slippery, odd, sometimes overly cautious behavior when he would go on missions, she'd told him to be honest with her, or else their relationship wouldn't work out.

And he had. He'd told her everything about him, including his involvement with the Demacian vigilante gang. Shyvana had been skeptical at first, but eventually, she asked to join. And she'd proved to be one of the most valuable members Demacia had ever had. She'd learned to fight on the streets, and she brought a ferocity and strength to engagements that was unmatched, and a determination that couldn't be stopped. At some point, the media had started calling her a half dragon on account of her propensity for lighting fires (accidentally, usually). Shyvana had liked it so much, she'd gotten a dragon tattoo along her back, and Jarvan had declared it to be the hottest thing he'd ever seen, no pun intended.

Once Jarvan's father had found out about the relationship, it was too late for him to stop it. Shyvana had become a valued member of Demacia, and Jarvan had made it quite clear that he loved her. So the mayor had relented, and now Jarvan and Shyvana were a happy couple.

Lux had to laugh at the blush that had colored Jarvan's face. "Don't worry, I won't tell," she said with a wink. "But you might want to pull your collar up a little higher."

Jarvan's eyes widened and he frantically did just that, covering up a hickey that had made his late-night activities all too obvious.

"Gah," Jarvan muttered. "Shit. That wasn't showing all through the meeting, was it?"

"I didn't notice it until now," Lux admitted.

"Great," he said with a sigh. Then he frowned. "Lux, just... Promise me that you'll be careful around the DuCouteaus. Don't underestimate them. Okay?"

Jarvan was right—she did need to keep her guard up around them. Just because they were cooperating didn't mean they weren't dangerous. And Lux knew better than to trust them.

Briefly, her mind flashed back to when she had played video games with Talon; laughter, happiness, her brother and his sister sitting comfortably behind them, chatting. Lux had felt safe, then, felt... Almost at home. She blinked, banishing the vision from her mind's eye.

Lux nodded, her eyebrows drawing together. "Okay," she promised.

* * *

Cass flipped through the thick tome during lunchtime, and Kat couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Why are you suddenly so interested in the family history?" she asked. Cass had asked Kat for the DuCouteau family records that Kat had locked in the safe in her room, and Kat had provided it for her sister. Kat had looked through the thing once before, when she was younger, at her father's request. He had wanted her to be familiar with the family's prestigious history, to remember the legacy she was born into as preparation for her first mission. It was supposed to be motivating, and it certainly had been; Kat had been enthusiastic and determined to prove herself after looking through and comparing herself to her ancestors.

She'd gone on to botch her first assignment, of course, and she'd lost so much more than just her enthusiasm. Absently, she traced the deep scar that ran across her eye and onto her cheek, the remnant of that disastrous mission.

"I'm not interested in our family history, Kat," Cass said, her eyes never leaving the pages before her. "I'm looking to see if Dad wrote anything in here for us to find."

Kat's mouth formed an 'o' shape, and she wondered why she hadn't thought of that herself. "Shit," she said before taking a bite of her sandwich. "If he did, good fucking luck finding it. That thing's huge." At three and a half inches thick, all handwritten in rather tiny script, it would take days, if not weeks, to read through all of the content.

"I know," Cass sighed, frowning. "Don't talk with your mouth full, it's disgusting."

Kat rolled her eyes and swallowed her food so as not to offend her sister any further with her lack of table manners. "I'd help, but I've got my own reading homework to deal with. Garen insists." She scowled as she glanced at the library book she had placed on the table next to her. She had to read the damn thing for Mr. Blitzcrank's stupid English partner essay with Garen.

"Mm," Cass said, clearly not caring. "That reminds me, Kat. I noticed you've started referring to him as 'Garen' now, as opposed to simply 'Crownguard'."

"We're living with a whole damn family of Crownguards," Kat said, "makes for less confusion."

Cass glanced up from her reading to quirk an eyebrow at Kat, clearly not believing her explanation. Kat felt her cheeks heat up.

"What?" she asked roughly.

"Nothing, nothing," Cass said, but Kat could tell she was lying by the way her lips quirked upwards at the edges.

"Asshole," Kat grumbled, earning a kick to her shin from her sister.

"You have class with Garen later, if I remember correctly," Cass said, her eyes returning to the thick tome in front of her.

Kat nodded before realizing her sister wasn't looking. "Yeah," she said, "English. With Mr. Blitzcrank."

"You know, some people say that Mr. Blitzcrank intentionally pairs people off on the joint essay because he wants them to become friends."

"That's a load of bullcrap," Kat said, rolling her eyes. She crammed the rest of her sandwich into her mouth and swallowed before continuing. "That old man's too prim and proper to come up with something like that." Mr. Blitzcrank was a stickler for the rules; Kat figured it had something to do with his age, or something—she didn't really care. At any rate, that old man was way too orthodox to even consider the thought of pairing students up in order to facilitate friendships.

"If you say so," Cass said with a shrug. Then she hummed. "Did you know that Marie DuCouteau was able to kill a man using only her high heels?"

"Heels hurt like a bitch—doesn't surprise me," Kat intoned as she gathered her trash and stood. She left the table to throw it away. As she was tossing it out, she felt someone's presence behind her, and she turned around to face whoever it was.

"Hi, Kat!" Lux said with a smile as she skipped past her and threw her own trash away into the bin. God, not this girl. "How's your day been?"

"Great," Kat said roughly. She did _not_ have the patience to deal with sweet, bubbly Lux right now; just the thought made her feel as if she was about to develop a headache. "It's been great. Look, I'm about to get ready for my next class, so I'll see you later, okay?" She saw Lux's smile falter at the clear dismissal before she turned around and marched back to the lunch table she'd been sharing with her sister.

"Blondie tried to talk to me. Thinks we're friends, or something," Kat grumbled as she gathered her things and stuffed them into her backpack.

"Careful, now," Cass said as she turned a page of the book, never once having looked up. "She's smarter than you give her credit for."

"I know she's a genius," Kat grumbled, "but if she thinks we're friends, she's as naive as they come."

"Perhaps," Cass said, finally looking up and casting a glance over her shoulder towards the table of friends Lux had returned to. "But I find it hard to believe a girl as intelligent as her is as naive as she lets on."

Kat frowned. "What do you mean?" she asked.

Cass let out a sigh and returned her attention to the book she was reading, not sparing her sister a glance. "What I _mean_ ," she said, "is that you ought to be more careful around her. She might know how to put on an act. Who knows—she might have even invited us just to keep tabs on us."

"That's awfully paranoid of you," Kat said, rolling her eyes. "She's Garen's sister. She doesn't have it in her."

Cass shrugged. "Think what you will. Regardless, we can't leave their hospitality. I would advise you to watch what you say in front of them, Kat."

Kat snorted. "Yeah, no shit," she said as she slung her backpack over her shoulder. "I'll see you later."

Cass hummed in way of response, and Kat made her way down the hallways, wondering why Cass was so suspicious of Lux. Kat didn't see anything to be worried about. Lux was smart, but she was also crushing on Talon, so she couldn't be _that_ smart.

* * *

Garen tapped his pencil against the desk, realized what he was doing, and forced himself to stop. He felt as if things were... off, today. Strangely, Katarina hadn't needed him to prod her about working. When Mr. Blitzcrank had told the groups to get together and work on their essays, Katarina had immediately pulled out the book she was reading and... started reading.

It was immensely relieving to not have to force Katarina to sit down and study for once. But perhaps her restlessness had just transferred from her to him, because he couldn't focus, and he found on the text in front of him. His eyes kept wandering to her. Why was that?

"Huh," Katarina said, interrupting Garen's thoughts.

"What?" he asked, and watched as she beckoned him closer and pointed to a passage in the book she was reading.

"It says that Romeo and Juliet are only thirteen," she stated.

" _What_?" he let out in surprise. No, that couldn't be right. "That... that's..."

"Yeah," Katarina said, and she laughed, a soft sound that sent a tingle down Garen's spine. "Can't believe some old perv wrote a play about thirteen year olds having sex. And now it's one of the most famous love stories out there."

Garen felt his face turn a dark shade of red. He wanted to protest, but she was right. "Good lord," he said, "were they really that young?" For such young characters to have gone through so much pining, such conflict, such pain, and eventual suicide... There was no way they could have been that young.

"Yeah, apparently," Katarina said, and she finally glanced up and caught a glimpse of his red face; she smirked. "What's the matter, Garen? Jealous that these kids lost their virginity and you haven't?"

He gasped in shock at the statement, and he was offended... But he felt his face darken in shade even further for the truth of it. "I—I—" he stammered, "That's _not_ —"

Katarina was laughing hysterically before he was able to even form a coherent sentence to respond with.

"Oh my _god_ ," she cackled, slapping the desk a few times for good measure, in case he wasn't already embarrassed by her laughter. "You—of _course_ ," she managed between choked laughter, and then she lost it again and was unable to compose herself for a full minute. Garen counted, each second making him sink farther into his seat.

Finally, Mr. Blitzcrank made his way across the room from where he had been sitting at his desk, and he stopped in front of them. "I trust you two are working on your project?" he asked.

Kat muffled her giggles behind her hand and nodded, avoiding Garen's gaze. He was sure it was because, if she looked at him again, she would burst out laughing once more.

"Of course, sir," Kat said, though her mirth was still clearly written across her face. "I was just... laughing at the play."

"Oh?" Mr. Blitzcrank asked, and he shifted, crossing his arms. "And what part in particular was so... uproariously funny?"

Kat snorted, and was unable to contain a few giggles. But she composed herself quickly, forcing a frown onto her face that was curled up at the edges, barely holding back a smile. "They're thirteen, sir," she said, "we were just laughing at... the absurdity of it."

Mr. Blitzcrank made a humming sound before nodding. "Rather young for such tragedy to befall them, yes. But such is the way of love, when one is blinded by one's feelings for another."

Garen's emotions had calmed enough at this point that he felt confident his voice would be steady when he spoke, and he wasn't disappointed. "That's a little pessimistic, sir," he said. "They were young, and the world was against them and their feelings for one another. But perhaps, if they had been given a chance, they would have been able to live out happy lives together."

Mr. Blitzcrank nodded thoughtfully, and Kat turned to Garen, giving him an appraising look. "Perhaps," Mr. Blitzcrank said, "but such musings would take us outside of the text, wouldn't it, and into our own world. You would be drawing from personal experiences to reach a conclusion, Mr. Crownguard."

Garen swallowed and hoped he wasn't being _that_ obvious. "Uh... Right," he mumbled.

After that, Mr. Blitzcrank returned to his desk. Garen got the distinct impression that their teacher was still watching them, though when he turned to look, the aging man was looking at his papers and writing something down.

Katarina snorted and let out a few giggles before finally, _finally_ composing herself. "Garen, how the fuck are you still a virgin?"

Garen bristled at the question. "I haven't... I don't believe in casual sex," he grunted.

Katarina quirked a brow. "Okay," she said, "but don't you have a girlfriend?"

"No," Garen said softly, and Katarina went quiet. "I've never dated anyone." He took a deep breath, and then let out a long sigh. "I was very focused on my studies, and then football... I haven't had the time to date anyone."

Kat watched him, and he couldn't read those emerald eyes, couldn't figure out what she was thinking.

"So you've never even kissed anyone?" she finally asked, and Garen let out a sigh. Of course she would tease him about it. He expected her to smirk any minute now, to laugh at him.

"No," he admitted.

"Huh," she managed, "I guess I should have known, with you being all prim and proper and... what was that word again? Knights and stuff?"

"Chivalrous," Garen supplied, remembering their conversation from the other day.

"Right, that," she nodded. "Of course you're the type to stay a virgin till you're married."

Garen blushed, and she let out a short guffaw.

"Or am I wrong about that last bit?" Suddenly she was leaning closer, across the desk, and he caught that distinct scent of cinnamon that she always carried, and her eyes were vibrant, so green, and he knew he could get lost staring into them for too long. "Is there someone you'd fuck before marriage, if they wanted?"

Garen blinked and huffed. " _Language_ , Katarina," he rebuked, hoping she didn't notice the way his words came out in a whoosh of air, the way his voice was pitched slightly lower than normal, the way his palms had suddenly grown sweaty.

She rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair, returning her attention to the book she'd been reading. "God, you're such a goody two-shoes. Makes me sick to my stomach," Kat muttered before she returned to reading.

Garen pouted. He couldn't really argue about being a goody two shoes-it was somethig he prided himself in, actually. But surely he didn't make her sick to her stomach?

And then he realized-she was teasing him. Katarina was teasing him, as she usually did. But, although she'd had the option to continue pestering and teasing him about being a virgin, she'd instead shifted the topic and decided to tease him about something else, something that he wasn't embarrassed about. She'd shifted the topic of their conversation to his personality, something he was proud of. She had recognized his discomfort and been... sympathetic. Very unlike the Katarina who he had known only a week ago.

Garen felt his heart skip a beat at the thought, and he felt himself grow warm in a pleasant way as he opened his own book and began to read, just like the redhead sitting across from him.

* * *

She could have teased him. She _wanted_ to tease him. But the way his brows had drawn together, the way his ears were just pure, blazing scarlet... Well, Kat just couldn't bring herself to do it. So she decided to save the teasing for another time, and she pretended to focus on reading.

But for the past few minutes, she hadn't been able to focus on the words on the page at all. She'd been distracted by Garen, again. For some reason, her eyes kept darting towards him—specifically towards his bangs. There was something so... _alluring_ about the way they fell into his eyes. His clear blue eyes narrowed just a little bit as he concentrated on what he was reading, and his lips pressed together in thought.

Kat forced her eyes back to her own book. God, why did she keep doing that? _Fucking hormones._ She glanced at the clock on the wall, and let out a relieved sigh. Only five minutes till the bell, and then she'd be home free. Well, not _home_ _free_. Her home was with the Crownguards, now, so it wasn't a safe haven from Garen. But—oh, that wasn't the point. Why the hell were her thoughts so jumbled, anyways?

She shook her head, and in the corner of her eye, she caught Garen shifting in his seat, leaning back and throwing an arm across the back of his chair, and she felt her heart beat just a little too quickly for her liking. Fucking _hormones_ , she thought again as her eyes were drawn to the well, _well_ defined muscles on his arm.

The bell rang, blessedly saving Katarina from having to sit here pretending to read while ogling the young man in front of her. She quickly gathered her things and threw them into her backpack, all too aware of Garen doing the same.

She rushed out of the room before him and walked briskly to her locker, letting out a sigh and running her hand through her long, crimson hair. "Shit," she grumbled as she began gathering the rest of her books from her locker.

"What's wrong?" asked a familiar low voice from behind her, sending a thrill through her entire body, and she jumped, startled, and spun around, slamming her locker shut.

"G-Garen!" she stammered. The fuck? Katarina DuCouteau didn't _stammer_. She took a deep breath to compose herself and shifted her backpack onto her shoulder, the picture of apathy. "The hell are you doing here?"

He shrugged. "I just followed you. I already had all my things, and we're carpooling, so..." he trailed off, scratching his ear. "I, uhh... I can leave, if you don't want me here," he finished a little sheepishly.

Kat let out a breath and rolled her eyes. What an idiot. "Whatever," she said. She turned and marched to the front of the school, not bothering to glance back and see if he was following. She knew he was.

She met Talon outside, as well as Lux. Talon leaned against the wall in his usual shady spot, his arms crossed, and Lux leaned against the wall next to him, one foot reaching farther out before her than the other. The two were laughing, faces tinged pink, when Kat and Garen found them. Kat pretended to gag at the sight.

"Flirt somewhere else," Kat said, and the two started in surprise, clearly having been too enthralled in their conversation to have noticed their siblings' approach.

"W-we weren't—" Talon stammered. Garen's glare made him quiet quickly, and he shared a glance with Lux, who shrugged.

Kat paid them little heed. She glanced to the side of the school and noticed a familiar, dark car waiting. She moved forward and took her brother by the arm, nodding towards Garen. "We'll be back in a sec," she said before marching towards the car.

Talon protested until he noticed where she was looking; once he'd followed her gaze, he stopped and instead hurried along the path to the vehicle.

The door was unlocked, of course, and Kat and her brother slid easily into the backseat.

Leblanc was waiting for them. She stared at them from the rearview mirror, as she always did, her gaze an unreadable amber that sent a chill down Kat's spine.

When Talon had closed the door behind him, Leblanc locked the doors, and she spoke.

"I see the two of you have gotten rather cozy with the Crownguard children," she said, and Kat could hear the smile in the woman's voice. The smile didn't meet the woman's eyes. Kat remembered Cass's warning about Leblanc from the previous night, and she wondered whether she ought to even tell the truth. She settled for a half-truth; not a lie, per se, but certainly not the truth.

"I wouldn't say 'cozy'," Kat grumbled. "Garen follows me around whether I like it or not."

"Lux is just an acquaintance," Talon stated, and Kat barely refrained from snorting at the blatant lie. Still, Talon had his impassive-mask on; he looked like he didn't give a shit about anything or anyone, least of all Luxanna Crownguard. Kat knew better, though.

Leblanc didn't grace them with a response; instead, she reached over to the passenger seat and retrieved two small Manila envelopes from where they had been sitting, and handed them each to Kat and Talon.

"You have new targets," Leblanc said, getting straight to business. "Katarina, your target is a young man you've encountered once before."

Kat frowned as she opened the envelope, and beheld a description of a Demacian.

"You do remember the young man who shot you, I assume," Leblanc said, and with a pang, Kat made the connection. "He's known as 'The Might of Demacia.' Signature weapon is a baseball bat. He's a ferocious fighter, though you've experienced that firsthand." Leblanc's dig at Kat's previous failure against him wasn't lost on her, and Kat narrowed her eyes.

 _The Might of Demacia, huh?_ she thought. She had underestimated him last time, she knew. As she rifled through the documents that Leblanc had provided and skimmed them, she learned of his various accomplishments. He had not only become a figurehead for Demacia, but also a thorn in Noxus' side. He'd thwarted many drug and smuggling operations and singlehandedly taken out dozens of Noxians. And he had done it all without killing a single person.

 _I won't underestimate you again, Might of Demacia,_ Kat thought as she closed the file, stuffed it into her backpack, and met Leblanc's eyes. She nodded.

"Talon," Leblanc said, her eyes leaving Kat's and meeting her brother's. "Your target is... a little hard to pin down. But I trust your tracking skills, and your ability to sneak around undetected." Talon opened his own file and scanned the pages wordlessly. "She's known as the Lady of Luminosity. A technical genius who has hacked the FBI and made it look easy; she always leaves a signature after her hacking endeavors—she's cocky. Use that to your advantage. She specializes in sniping, only hitting non-lethal shots."

"So she stays back, away from the action," Talon concluded with a nod. "And when do you want us to kill them?"

Leblanc smiled. "Tonight, 2300 on the dot. The Demacians are planning a raid on one of the smaller outposts, by the docks. Pier 81. It's one of our more profitable rings."

Kat nodded. She'd been there once before, on a routine checkup. That was what High Command called it when somebody wasn't doing their job properly, and they needed Kat to go in and... intimidate them. Katarina was well-known throughout the Noxian ranks for her work as an assassin, and her very presence was often frightening enough to make some of the lower grunts piss themselves. So when High Command wanted a low-ranked officer to do his damn job, they needed to send someone to make him do it, someone who could get the job done easily and without any casualties; killing a member who could prove useful wasn't efficient. It wasn't a job that required the presence of a higher-up, and it was a task beneath them, anyways; thus, High Command relegated the job to either Kat or Talon.

Needless to say, Kat wasn't overly familiar with the place. She'd only snuck inside, put a knife to a man's throat, given a scripted threat, and then casually strolled back outside when the man had agreed to cooperate with Noxus and work harder. She hadn't been back since. She hated the docks.

"I've fed some false info to the Demacians," Leblanc said. "They think they'll find a member of High Command, along with some highly incriminating documents. Needless to say, they'll find neither, and there won't be any traces of Noxus left in the warehouse by the time they arrive.

"They'll send their best, as they usually do. You'll run into your targets, as well as a few other Demacians. Ignore the extras and kill your targets."

"Understood," Kat said.

"How are we supposed to get there?" Talon asked. It was a valid question, and one Kat hadn't thought of. She was used to being able to either drive to ops herself, or else have a superior escort her; but, since the DuCouteaus were staying with the Crownguards, the former wasn't an option, and the latter could draw suspicion.

"Darius will pick you up from the Crownguard manor at 1800. You're to pretend you're going to see a movie with him. He'll retrieve you after the mission's completion at 0100, in the same location that he drops you off, and he'll return you to the Crownguard mansion. Any questions?"

Kat shook her head, and Talon's silence was answer enough.

"Good." Leblanc adjusted her rearview mirror and unlocked the doors. Talon stuffed his file into his backpack, opened the door quickly, and hopped out, but as Kat was just about to follow suit, Leblanc spoke. "Oh, and Kat?"

Kat froze, and she met Leblanc's gaze; for the first time this afternoon, the woman had turned in her seat slightly, and she looked at Kat directly, a small smile on her lips.

"Yeah?" Kat asked, her throat suddenly dry, aware that the door was still open and that Talon was waiting for her outside, probably wondering what the hold up was; she became all too aware of Garen and Lux watching curiously, the open door granting them a direct line of sight onto Leblanc.

"Did you know that a building caught fire in downtown? It was hard to track down, but it seems that the property was in your father's possession. The police are investigating."

Kat forced herself not to flinch or blink, or make any noticeable reaction of any kind; she wouldn't give Leblanc any tell sign of her involvement in the safehouse's demise, or her murder of the men and the Black Rose operative. "What?" she asked, inflecting as much alarm and concern into her voice as she could muster. She hoped the act would fool Leblanc, but Kat had never been as good at putting on a convincing show as Cass.

"Yes. It seems there were some dead bodies found, as well, though the fire burned any recognizable parts of them to ashes. The police are likely looking into dental records."

Leblanc seemed to know an awful lot about the investigation, and seemed awfully fascinated by it. She must be worried for the DuCouteaus—informing them about the details would be a way of helping to keep them safe. On the other hand, if she _was_ somehow involved with the Black Rose, wouldn't she know that the men had been murdered? She could be making up the whole thing just to see if Kat gave any sign that she was involved in their deaths, or if she knew about the organization. Kat wasn't sure what Leblanc was up to, but she remembered what Cass had told her—not to trust Leblanc.

"You don't think...?" Kat said, letting the question trail off, hoping Leblanc would fill in the blank and give her some clue as to what her intentions were.

"That one of them was your father?" Leblanc asked. "No, I don't think so. Your father wasn't the type of man to die in a building fire; he's the type of man who will either die fighting, or die in his sleep, wouldn't you say?" Leblanc narrowed her eyes just a fraction; and the action somehow seemed menacing. Kat swallowed.

"Y-yeah," Kat said.

Leblanc smiled and inclined her head. "It seems your Crownguard friends are getting impatient."

Kat turned to see that Lux was waving at her, and that Garen had his arms crossed and was tapping his foot.

"They aren't my friends," Kat said almost automatically.

"Be sure that they aren't," Leblanc said. "I'll be by tomorrow. See to it that you and your brother aren't captured by the Demacians tonight, will you, dear?"

Kat nodded, bristling internally at being called 'dear' by the woman. She stepped out of the car and closed the door, trying her best not to slam the door shut and failing miserably. Oh, well. So Leblanc knew she was upset—it wasn't as if the woman knew exactly why.

Leblanc drove away, and Kat and her brother made their way to the Crownguard siblings just as Cassiopeia arrived.

"Who was that woman?" Lux asked, waving in the direction where Leblanc's car had been.

Kat shared a quick glance with Talon before speaking. "Math tutor," she lied; Lux had known Leblanc as Cassiopeia's math tutor on the phone—it seemed like a good alias to keep up.

Garen seemed surprised. "You have a math tutor?"

She shrugged. "Yeah," she said.

"I didn't know you needed a math tutor," Lux said in her usual cheery manner. Kat bristled at the veiled insult; coming from a genius, it felt as if the remark was intended to smart, and Kat didn't take kindly to insults.

Kat glared. "I don't," she spat, and she marched past the blonde Crownguard, towards the parking lot. She heard heavy footfalls following her, and she recognized them as belonging to Garen. "What?" she asked, not bothering to look over her shoulder at him.

Garen was quiet for a bit before answering with his own question. "What's wrong?"

Kat's pace slowed enough for Garen to catch up and walk beside her, and she saw on his face the genuine concern she had expected. She considered her words; she couldn't tell him about who Leblanc really was, or why she was upset with her. But that didn't mean she had to outright lie to him, either. Truthfully, Kat wasn't sure that she could. "I don't like that woman," she admitted.

Garen watched her and nodded, and something about the gesture was reassuring; perhaps it was the genuinely honest nature behind it, or perhaps it was just that Kat needed someone to listen, whether they understood or not. "Is she mean?" he asked.

Kat snorted. "Mean doesn't come close," she said as she recalled the torture her sister had described the previous day.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Have you thought about getting a different tutor?"

"She's a... family friend," Kat said, choosing her words carefully. "Can't do that without insulting people I can't afford to insult."

"I understand," Garen said, and Kat had to refrain from shaking her head; there was no way Garen could understand. "We have family friends like that, too. Well, we don't have to be tutored by them, but Lux and I have endured our fair share of nasty people."

Kat wanted to stop him, to tell him that even the nastiest person he'd met was nowhere near as nasty as anyone in High Command; hell, as a murderer of countless men and a ruthless assassin, maybe _she_ was worse than them, too. But she couldn't tell him any of that, so she just made a soft hum of consideration before beginning to walk again.

After a minute, Kat stopped in front of the parking lot and frowned. She didn't know where Garen had parked the car after he'd dropped the rest of them off in front of the school in the morning.

"The car's this way," Garen said, pointing down one of the rows, and Kat followed him as he navigated through several cars and finally reached the minivan that Garen had driven them to school in. Garen usually drove the truck because he liked it, he'd explained in the morning, but this was the only vehicle the Crownguards owned that would hold all of them.

It was blue, of course; it seemed like the Crownguards were overly fond of that color, though she had to admit that it did bring out their eyes in an agreeable way. It made his gaze more intense, in a manner that drew her in, as if she could stare into his eyes and in their depths find a pathway to his soul. Or something. She needed to stop reading that Shakespeare crap—it was starting to get to her.

Garen unlocked the doors, and without thinking about it, Kat hopped into the passenger seat as he took the driver's seat beside her and started the engine. He let the car idle for a bit and drummed his fingers against the wheel.

"This evening, Lux and I are going to visit our aunt," he said, and Kat wondered why he was telling her this. If he was about to invite her to tag along to see some old lady, he would be very disappointed. She had no interest in meeting any of Garen's relatives, to be quite honest, much less boring, surely stern old women. Besides, it would interfere with her mission. "I'll drop you guys off at home, and then Lux and I will be leaving. So..." Garen's fingers stopped drumming against the wheel. "Please take care of the house while we're gone. I have leftovers in the fridge that you can just microwave. You might also consider setting them in the oven, but I'm not sure how familiar any of you are with cooking—"

"Microwave's fine," Kat said, slightly taken aback. Honestly, Garen's naïveté shouldn't surprise her anymore. Though any same person wouldn't think to leave her and her and her siblings alone in their house, much less trust them to not do anything devious, Garen was apparently never one to expect anything short of exemplary behavior from others. He was way too trusting for his own good. But... "Talon and I won't be home for dinner, though," she said. "We're going out."

Garen's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh," he said, and perhaps she imagined the slight tinge of disappointment coloring his voice. "I didn't realize." He scratched his chin. "What will you two be doing?"

"Movie," she said, repeating the alibi Leblanc had told them to use.

"Oh, I see," Garen said. "You know, I think Lux has a membership. She might be able to get you a discount. Maybe we could all go together tomorrow instead, if you want to use the discount."

Again with the kindness and consideration. It was… odd. Katarina had never met someone before who was so genuinely _nice_. "Already bought the tickets online," she said, the lie slipping from her tongue as easily as her knives through skin.

"Oh. Maybe next time, then," Garen said, and he seemed a little dejected. His shoulders slumped just a tad, and he let out a barely noticeable sigh, and suddenly Kat heard someone speaking, and it took her a moment to realize it was her.

"Sure," she agreed, "some other time." Wait. Did she actually just agree to that? _What the hell, Kat_? she thought.

Garen perked up a bit, and a tentative smile grew on his lips. "Maybe this Friday?" he asked.

"Maybe," she said, avoiding giving a definite answer, still confused as to why in the hell she'd even considered it.

"That would make me very happy," Garen said, a full-blown smile on his face—teeth and everything—and then he shifted gears, reversed out of the parking space, and drove around the school to pick the others up.

All the while, Kat's heart pounded a merciless, quick rhythm against her chest.

* * *

"Our _aunt_? You told her we were visiting our _aunt_?" Lux said before letting out a giggle. "We don't _have_ any aunts."

"They don't know that," Garen countered, frowning. Then he realized she couldn't see his face, so he grunted to give voice to his disapproval of her reaction.

"They might," Lux said, then let out a sigh over the comms. "If they get suspicious, I'll figure out a better excuse than 'visiting our aunt'."

Garen huffed. "It's not _that_ terrible of an excuse," he said. "Family functions are generally accepted as valid excuses, given that it's an obligation by blood and you're directly related to them." Or at least, he'd read that somewhere. Or something like that.

"Family, huh?" Lux said with a laugh, and Garen knew he didn't imagine the cold edge to the sound. "The DuCouteaus have been staying with us for three days, now, and they still haven't seen our parents, and they haven't seen us interact with our parents. Once Mom and Dad get back, they'll see us all together as a ' _family_ /'," she said, the word like venom on her tongue, "and they'll know something's off."

Garen huffed again, but didn't argue. Lux wasn't wrong, he supposed, but it was no use trying to reason with her when she got like this. She was still bitter towards their parents, and Garen couldn't blame her for that—he was, too. They were left in a situation wherein their home was also the home of those who had used them, used her. They tried to avoid their parents whenever possible.

Over the comms, Shyvana, who was with Lux on the top of the adjacent building, yawned.

"Watch duty is boring," Shyvana grumbled. "Give me some Noxians to beat up, already."

"You're stuck with me, Shyv," Lux replied, and Garen could hear the playful edge to her voice. He knew she was still upset by the extra layer of sweetness she added to her tone; she was good at faking being happy, but he knew her better than most. "And that means we get to _see_ all the action, but we're never a part of it. Usually."

Shyvana groaned. "I know, I know."

Garen's interest was piqued. "Why _are_ you on guard duty for Lux, anyway?" Usually, Shyvana—fierce warrior that she was—was to be found on the frontlines, teeth bared and roaring as she charged down foe after foe.

Shyvana let out a bitter laugh. "Jarvan's Dad doesn't like me."

"While that's true," Lux said, "it's because of the fire she started at the last Noxian raid."

"That was an _accident_ ," Shyvana said, and Garen could imagine the pout on her lips. "I didn't mean to start that one."

"'That one,' she says," Jarvan's voice laughed over the comms. He'd been silent through most of the exchange, but it seemed this was something he couldn't resist chiming in on. "That implies the others _were_ intentional."

"You're sleeping on the fucking couch all week," Shyvana grumbled.

"It's my house!" he protested.

" _Couch_ ," Shyvana repeated forcibly, and if the whine on the other end was any indication, Jarvan wasn't pleased with this turn of events. He should have stayed quiet, Garen thought as he chuckled at the exchange.

"So she's on guard duty, a task which offers minimal opportunity for creating any sort of incendiary action," Lux concluded.

"Translation: I'm being punished, and it sucks," Shyvana said with a huff. Garen could imagine her folding her arms and frowning.

"Hate to break up the fun," said another voice, softer than the others, but firm—Quinn. "But our targets are in the building, now. Clock's ticking."

Garen flexed his fingers around the bat he held, and then tightened his grip on the weapon. He double-checked the tranq's on his person and nodded in satisfaction—everything was in order.

"I'm in position," Jarvan said.

"As am I," Garen said into the comms.

Lux began a countdown. "Three, two, one. Mission start-o!"

"You're a dweeb," Shyvana grumbled, but Garen wasn't paying attention to his sister's response to Shyvana's comment.

Upon the start of their operation, he had immediately sprung into action. He rushed through the alleyway towards the doors of the warehouse, and swung the doors open. He threw himself through the door and then charged inside, tranquilizer poised and ready for a fight. On the other side of the warehouse, if he hadn't run into any opposition, Jarvan would have already made his way to the front entrance. They entered at the same time, from opposite ends of the building.

And there he was—Garen could see Jarvan's frame outlined by the door he had used.

Garen blinked, and his visor adjusted its settings for night vision. Then he blinked again as he surveyed the inside of the warehouse.

"It's empty," he said, his voice echoing hollowly in the large space.

"What?" Lux said, and Garen repeated himself.

"It's empty."

"Maybe there's a hidden room," Jarvan said, and his voice, too, echoed throughout the warehouse. Garen stepped forward and particles of dust spun into the air, visible from the light streaming in through the open doors. It was then that he noticed the layer of dust on the floor; nobody had been here in quite some time.

"Dust," Garen said. "No footprints. Nobody's here."

"Did we hit the wrong place?" Shyvana asked.

"No, this is the right warehouse," Lux said, though Garen could hear the confusion in her voice. "Our instructions said pier 81, and they gave us the address to this warehouse. This is the right place."

Jarvan sighed. "Then the info we got was wrong. Clearly this place hasn't been in use for years—"

"That doesn't make sense, though," Lux said. "I checked—there are supposed to be people employed here, people who work daily. The warehouse is supposed to be full of crates of imported Japanese goods."

Jarvan gestured to the empty space surrounding them. "Well, it's not."

"I can see that," Lux snapped.

"Hey, don't—" Jarvan started, but Garen muted his comms with a sigh. He'd heard enough arguing for one day, and he really wasn't in the mood to hear his sister and his best friend yell at each other for the next five minutes until Lux won the argument. Instead, Garen made his way around the warehouse, trying to find any clues as to where the Noxians had gone.

He found nothing. The warehouse was truly empty. But as he turned to go to Jarvan's side and tell him they should take their leave, he spotted something he'd overlooked.

In the far corner of the room, hidden in the shadows, was something on the floor. Garen approached it warily, and then he bent down to retrieve it.

"Ow," he muttered and dropped it, staring at his thumb, where a small prick of blood began to bloom, the red spreading slowly across his fingertip. This time, Garen picked the flower up more carefully. What was a rose doing here?

Quinn's voice was sharp over the comms, and drew his attention away from the rose. "Guys, we've got company."

"What?" Garen said.

"There's—a man," Quinn said. "He's headed for... He's headed for the rooftop. Lux, Shyvana—"

"I'm ready," Shyvana said. "We'll take care of him."

Jarvan was already out the door of the warehouse. "I'm on my way," he said over the comms.

Garen put the rose in one of the pockets of his suit. The pockets were made to carry objects of varying sizes, so the rose would remain intact.

"I'm on my way," Garen said, and he set off at a trot to follow Jarvan out of the warehouse.

It was the faint whizz of metal flying through the air that saved his life. He had almost reached the door to leave when he heard it. He reacted just in time and threw himself to the side as a dagger embedded itself in the ground. If he'd moved a second later, it would have found the back of his neck.

A shadow fell from the roof, and Garen realized with a start that, whoever this was, they had been hiding there the whole time. He and Jarvan had never looked up at the ceiling. They'd never expected someone to be hiding there.

Garen recognized the smirk on the woman's lips, visible through the ski mask she wore. It was the same woman from their previous mission—the one he had tranq'd.

"Miss me?" she asked, and then Garen knew nothing but the flash of steel.

* * *

A/N: Ok, so I lied. Apparently I write a lot when I'm upset. And the election left me upset. Ugh. Anyways, I mean it for real this time when I say I probably won't update till winter break. I do have some stuff written, but not an entire chapter's worth of content.

So, KAT REWORK? ANYONE? YESSSSSS.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

Her arms and legs were stiff from waiting for hours on the roof of the warehouse. Earlier, she had scaled the building and slipped in through a broken window. From there, she scouted out an ideal location in the far corner, a set of rafters dark enough to hide her in the shadows, and large enough so that she could situate herself comfortably along their length. And then she waited.

She waited for hours, shifting only slightly and grimacing at the dust that spun into the air at the slightest movement she made. And then, finally, he arrived. Pretty loudly; she was startled by the sound, and her hands went immediately to her daggers. She prepared to ready her throw, but then he moved and another man entered, blocking her from a clear shot at The Might of Demacia. He and his companion made their way inside and began looking around.

If she could isolate him, that would be best; otherwise, she would have to fight the two of them. Kat wasn't built for extended fights; she was suited for quick engagements—finish the kill, and retreat. Having to fight both men for an extended period of time would be disastrous for her. But she knew how they fought—they'd fought before, back at the Westside base, and she knew taking them down wouldn't be easy. If it came to an extended fight, Kat wasn't sure she'd be able to eliminate the Might of Demacia.

So it was a relief when the other Demacian raced out of the warehouse, leaving the bulky young man alone. He moved towards the exit, and Kat had known—it was now, or never. His attention was on the door, on something outside—Talon, probably, she realized—so she had an opening.

Her knife soared through the air. It would have hit the back of his neck, severing his spine and killing him instantly, but at the very last second, he dodged it. Kat had to hand it to him. He was good. Her heartbeat quickened at the thought; she loved a challenge.

She wasn't surprised that he was ready for her, his baseball bat gripped between both hands. Usually, she would scoff at such a weapon before shooting the owner with her gun. But guns made noise, and she had hoped to catch him by surprise with her silent dagger. Thus, her gun was still holstered on her hip, and in the time it would take her to draw it, he would be able to close the distance between them. Kat would lose in a close quarters fight against this burly man; he would brute force his way to victory.

So she would have to rely on her daggers for the time being. If she could put enough distance between them, she would be able to draw her gun and shoot him. Even if the shot didn't kill him, it would be enough to incapacitate him, and that would be all the opportunity Katarina needed to put a dagger between his eyes.

She twirled the daggers in her hands, adrenaline pumping through her veins. She'd lost the element of surprise, so why not have some fun?

She hopped from the rafter and landed quietly on the floor.

"Miss me?" she taunted, and then she leapt, throwing both of her daggers at his exposed side, drawing new ones in one swift motion, honed over years of training.

The man had the sense to dodge by sidestepping the projectiles, but Katarina had already sent more his way, and she raced across the warehouse, a sharp blur of red. Her previous daggers had embedded themselves within the wall, and Kat retrieved them with a deft pull as the man once again dodged the daggers she had sent his way.

He was being passive, and Katarina was just fine with that. She threw another set of knives at him, expecting him to dodge them again. Instead, with a roar, he swung his bat, knocking her daggers off course, and they clattered to the ground, away from him.

"I've got an assassin on me," she heard him say, his voice low and breathless. He was calling backup. "I'll be there soon," he said, and she shivered. Through the mask, his voice was muffled and distorted, and it almost sounded like... No, that was impossible. Kat shut down that line of thinking immediately and readied a knife.

But that slightest hesitation on her part, the lapse in the constant barrage of daggers being sent his way, gave the Might of Demacia enough time to reposition himself, and he drew a tranquilizer gun from his belt.

"Shit," Katarina cursed as he fired, and she dodged to the side. Now _she_ was on the defensive, and he fired two more shots in rapid succession.

Katarina ducked low, minimizing her target area, and rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the darts. In the time it took, he had rushed forward, closing the distance between them with incredible speed. Katarina threw her daggers towards him once more, and he was forced to the side, and Kat increased the distance between them.

It was like a game of cat and mouse. She was starting to wear out, though. He was panting as well, but the longer she kept this up, the less likely she would complete her mission. She needed to act now, she needed to change the tempo of this dance, or else she knew what the outcome would be.

Katarina tossed several blades in his direction and sped forward. As she ran, she produced more blades from her person and threw them at the masked man. He was forced to dodge them all, and the constant onslaught of new daggers caused him to lose focus on her, his attention focused on evading the blades.

She leaped towards him, ducked and rolled, and drew two daggers as she stood quickly. The man had still been trying to find his balance after having to throw himself to the side to dodge her last knife. Now, he was in the perfect position for her to strike.

It was a motion she'd practiced thousands of times, a motion she'd executed hundreds of times. First, she brought her left dagger up—a feint, a distraction. The opponent would bring their arm up to guard against it, an instinctual act. Then, she would spin behind them, and with the dagger in her right hand, she would plunge her blade into the back of her target's neck. Mission accomplished.

Katarina raised her blade and feinted, her feet already preparing to make the spin to position her behind her target.

But instead of trying to defend himself, the man dropped his weapons, let out a roar, and tackled her.

Katarina was knocked to the ground, and he tried to pin her there. She quickly relinquished her hold on her weapons in order to use her hands to free herself from him. He tried to hold her arms in place, but she brought her knees up under her and managed to push most of his weight off as she also elbowed his visor.

He grunted in pain, and Katarina managed to wriggle out from under him. Panting now, Kat rolled out of his reach, picking up two of her fallen blades.

He was already on his feet, though.

Katarina had never faced an opponent like this before. They were equally matched, truly, and despite herself, Katarina felt her heart quicken at the thought.

She spun the blades in her hands. This was it. If she couldn't manage to kill him this time, she wouldn't be able to kill him tonight, period. They were on a schedule.

She would throw five daggers at him in rapid succession, then another five as she moved in. He would dodge them, most certainly—and she would move in for the kill. Quick, clean, efficient. One dagger to the back of his neck, and that would be the end of the Might of Demacia. Kat smirked. Too easy.

She gripped her daggers in anticipation, and she began to move—it was now or never, and she—

"Sinister!"

Katarina turned to the door, fury in her eyes at being interrupted, and beheld her brother running towards her.

"We need to go," he shouted at her, and she scoffed.

"What? I was about to—"

" _Now_ ," Talon repeated, his voice dangerously low.

Katarina grit her teeth, her grip on the hilts of her blades tightening. She would have killed him, if Talon hadn't interrupted. She was sure of it. But there was no way Talon would have butted in unless something serious had come up.

She cast one final look towards her opponent, who regarded both of them warily, before nodding.

"Fine," she relented, and she followed Talon out of the building, running at breakneck speed. He led her in a dizzying path of twists and turns along alleys and rooftops, until they finally dropped down from a fire escape to the rendezvous point.

And now, Katarina let out the words that she'd been holding back. "What the _fuck_ , Talon? I almost had him!"

"We're still in the field, _Sinister_ ," he said, emphasizing her code name.

"I don't care! What the hell was that?"

Talon sighed, and for the first time, Kat noticed the blood dripping from his arm. Her anger dissipated. Talon never got hurt—he was always too quick.

"They had backup," he admitted. "Lots of it. My target said the police were on their way, as well."

"Wait," Kat said, realization dawning, "you didn't eliminate your target." It wasn't a question.

"No," Talon said. He let out a frustrated sigh. "She saw me coming, somehow. She _saw_ me."

Kat frowned. Talon was renowned for being able to sneak past guards and security cameras alike. For his target to have seen him... It was unprecedented.

"Shit," she said. He nodded in agreement.

"I don't know how, but she saw me coming. She knew exactly where to aim, and the person with her knew where I was hiding. Her guard was strong. I couldn't get past them. We were out of time, with the police coming. So I fell back."

Katarina frowned. "We both failed," she said. Talon was silent; there was nothing to say. They had failed their missions from Leblanc. Who knew what the woman would do, now that they had failed her? They were still under the Crownguards' protection, but that was little comfort to Katarina.

They were silent until a familiar dark vehicle approached. A tall, broad-shouldered man rolled down the window and grunted. "Get in," Darius said, and Kat and Talon climbed into the back of his car.

Darius rolled the window back up and locked the doors. Then he started driving, and it took him a long time before he spoke.

"Did you do it?" he asked.

Katarina couldn't bring herself to look at him. "No," she said roughly.

She expected surprise. Condescension. Not the worried look he gave them.

"Leblanc said you wouldn't. I didn't think..." Darius said, trailing off.

"What do you mean?" Kat asked, her eyes wide.

"The higher ups didn't expect you to kill your targets. I didn't believe them... I've never seen you fail," Darius said, his voice rough. He pulled over on the side of the road, not too far from the Crownguard household. He turned in his seat to regard the DuCouteau siblings. "You need to watch yourselves," he cautioned. "There are rumors going around..."

"What sort of rumors?" Kat asked quickly, her eyes narrowing. Of course rumors were flying around about them. They were staying with the police, their father had mysteriously vanished... Her hands curled into fists, the nails biting into her skin.

Darius narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. He seemed to consider his words before speaking. "Rumors about your allegiances. You're staying with the police chief, you're failing missions... There are whispers that your father was a traitor. That your whole family are traitors."

Katarina had moved before she realized she had even drawn her dagger. It was at Darius' throat before she knew it, and the young man's hand caught her wrist, keeping the blade mere centimeters from his throat. A growing fury boiled in her chest at his words. How _dare_ he accuse her of treachery. How dare they—how dare Nocus accuse her of anything but the fiercest devotion. Since her first mission, she'd done nothing but serve Noxus to the best of her abilities, and she'd lost so much for it. Her scar burned.

A thought crossed her mind, though—if her father _had_ crossed Noxus... Then would she betray Noxus for her family? She didn't know. The fact that her answer wasn't an immediate 'no,' as it should have been for a devoted member of Noxus—that made her all the angier.

" _Never_ ," she said, the rage in her a raw fire, scalding her insides, "question my loyalty."

After a few moments, Darius shoved her hand away from his neck, and she withdrew her blade. He rubbed at his throat, his eyes never leaving hers.

"I never said I agreed with them," Darius finally said. "I only meant to warn you. Something's changed in High Command. With your father gone, the atmosphere is different. Unreadable. The balance in power has shifted. Don't be on the wrong side, when the time comes."

Kat narrowed her eyes and twirled the dagger still in her hand. "The wrong side?" she asked.

Darius grunted before turning around and facing the front. He put the car into drive and began moving, but Kat wasn't finished.

"What do you mean, 'the wrong side?' Darius, what the hell are you talking about?"

Darius glanced at her from the rearview mirror, and Katarina was eerily reminded of Leblanc looking at her in the same fashion. "If your father was a traitor, you'll need to prove yourselves. I'd hoped that you two would have accomplished your missions tonight. That would have been enough to prove your loyalty to High Command. Don't screw up next time, if you want to stay in High Command's good graces, is what I'm saying."

It took Katarina a minute to realize he was trying to offer a warning in good faith. That he had no ulterior motives. She knew Darius, of course; having risen through the ranks, from a mere grunt to a junior member of High Command, almost everyone knew of him and his strength. She had met him in high school, had attended the same classes as him before he dropped out to focus fully on his work in the organization. They had never been friends, but she had respected his strength, and he had respected her talents.

Perhaps that was why he was offering this warning. She ought to appreciate it. But all she could think of on the ride home was whether he had been right... Was her father a traitor?

If he was... What did that mean for her and her siblings?

Darius drove them home in silence. Home. Kat scoffed internally at the thought. As if the Crownguard manor and the Crownguards themselves could ever be where she truly belonged. She belonged to the shadows, not to their light.

"Take care of yourselves," Darius said after he pulled up in front of the manor and they began to exit the vehicle. Kat paused.

"You, too," she said. He nodded, and she slipped out of the car, and shut the door behind her. Darius drive off, probably back to headquarters to report on their failure.

Kat sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

"That fucking sucked," she muttered. Beside her, Talon grunted in agreement.

"Let's get inside," he said.

"Anxious to see Lux?" Kat teased, trying to lighten the mood. She couldn't tell for certain through the shadows of the night, but his cheeks might have darkened a shade or two.

"She's not home. Her or Garen. Remember?"

Kat's shoulders slumped, and she realized with a jolt that she was... disappointed. "I forgot," she admitted. Had she... Had she been looking forward to seeing...?

Kat shook her head, banishing such thoughts. They needed to talk to Cass.

Kat was pleasantly surprised to find that the front door was locked. Either the Crownguards didn't always leave it so, as Kat had been led to believe the day before, or Cass had taken it upon herself to lock up the premises for the night. Whatever the case, it was safer this way, and Kat couldn't help but feel relieved. She rang the doorbell, and a few seconds passed before the door swung open, revealing Cassiopeia.

"Welcome back," Cass said, letting Katarina and Talon inside and locking the door behind them. "I see Darius was your escort, tonight." Her nose crinkled; Cass had never liked Darius.

"I prefer him over Leblanc," Kat said. Honestly, she'd prefer _anyone_ over Leblanc, at this rate. After heading to Katarina's bedroom, Kat and Talon relayed the events of that night to Cass, who listened intently, never batting an eye.

"What do you make of them sending us on a mission, knowing we'd fail?" Talon asked. "Why would High Command do that?"

Cass narrowed her eyes in thought. "I'm not sure," she said. "It could be any number of reasons. But from what Darius said... It could be to test our allegiance. To see whether you'll do as you're told, even if you know the only outcome is failure."

"But we _didn't_ know we'd fail," Kat argued, frustration entering her voice. "I almost killed him. I would have killed him, if I'd had just a little more time."

"Hmm... Perhaps there's something else at play, then," Cass said. "If the Black Rose is involved somehow, then perhaps you weren't expected only to fail. Perhaps you were expected to be exposed, as well."

Kat paced by the foot of her bed, arms crossed. If the Black Rose wanted their identities as members of Noxus to be exposed, then if they succeeded, it would have dire consequences. They would lose their place at the Crownguard's, effectively rendering them vulnerable to the Black Rose, Noxus... even the police would be after them, then.

"We haven't even done anything to them," Kat said through clenched teeth. She hated them. She _hated_ the Black Rose. Whoever they were—she and her siblings were innocent of having crossed them. _Why_ was the organization so hellbent on ruining their lives?

" _We_ haven't," Cass agreed, "but clearly Father did something to provoke them. Maybe he has information on their members, or maybe he opposed them, or posed a threat to them somehow... Who's to say, for sure? Father's missing, and the Black Rose won't simply come out and tell us what their intentions are."

Kat let out a sigh of frustration. "Fuck this," she said. She kicked at the bedframe, ignoring the pain that swelled in her foot immediately after the action. "Fuck it," she repeated.

"Eloquent," Cass said drily.

"There has to be something we can do," Talon offered, "some way we can find out what's really going on. Who the Black Rose is, what they wanted from our father... Where they took him."

Kat kicked the bedframe again, this time hissing as her big toe throbbed from the impact.

"You know I'm sitting on this bed," Cass said with disdain. "And pray tell, Talon, if you have any ideas on how to go about finding those answers, do share them with us. Because I would _love_ to hear them."

"We don't need you to patronize us, Cass," Kat said through grit teeth.

"You kicking everything in sight isn't helping, either, dear sister," Cass said, narrowing her eyes.

"Stop arguing," Talon said, "you're just making each other angrier."

Kat opened her mouth to retort, but as she did so, she realized that he was right. She closed her lips and looked away, glaring at the wall.

She felt her scar burn, and something behind her eyes. She closed them and swallowed. "Darius said Dad was a traitor."

" _Might_ have been," Talon corrected.

"What?" Cass asked.

"There are rumors that Dad was a traitor. If he was, then maybe that's why the Black Rose was after him," Kat murmured.

"But… that…" Cass said, trailing off. "It does make sense," she admitted. "It would explain High Command's hostility towards us. It would explain Leblanc's behavior. But it doesn't explain how the Black Rose is connected to this. It doesn't even confirm that their involvement is related."

"It doesn't matter," Kat said, opening her eyes and crossing her arms. She looked at her siblings— _really_ looked.

Cass had shadows under eyes. They were concealed well by makeup during the day, but now, after she had showered and had readied for bed, they were clearly visible. She was worrying at her lip, her eyes misted over by something, as if she were lost in thought.

Talon's jaw was clenched, and his arms were crossed. This wasn't altogether unusual; to others, he always gave a standoffish appearance, his eyes always low and guarded, his hood always up. But there was a tightness to his shoulders that he never had around his family, and the way he ground his teeth told that he was far from composed, despite what it might appear.

This—their father missing, the Black Rose, Noxus—it was taking its toll on them. For a moment, they looked like strangers. She wondered if she looked the same to them.

"What if he was?" Cass asked quietly. "What if he was a traitor?"

Kat thought about it. Then she uncrossed her arms and stood tall, and she felt her siblings' eyes on her. "Then we find out why."

"And then what?" Talon asked. He uncrossed his arms, too, and pushed himself off the wall. His eyes were narrowed, and Kat got the distinct impression that he was assessing her—that if she said the wrong thing, made the wrong choice, that he would lose faith in her. Cass sat up straighter, her own eyes guarded, watching the exchange and waiting.

"I don't know," Kat said. "I don't know anything. I don't know how we're going to find Dad, I don't know how we're going to get him back. I don't know what he did, and I don't know what we will have to do." She took a deep breath, considering her next words. "But I will do whatever it takes to get Dad back, and to protect you two."

It was treason, really. She had just implied that she would go against Noxus if it came to it. And if she'd spoken those words to any other members of Noxus, she would be immediately apprehended, turned in, killed.

But the corners of Talon's lips quirked upwards in a smile. And Cass's shoulders relaxed. Clearly, she hadn't been the only one harboring those sentiments.

"Me, too," Talon said, his voice rough. And there was something in his eyes, a fiery gleam she'd never seen before, and Katarina knew that he meant his words.

They turned to Cass, who quirked a brow.

"I want Dad back just as much as you do," she said. "I have no allegiance to Noxus. The only allegiance I hold is to those who I care about. And I care about my family."

Kat felt her shoulders sag in relief at her sister's words. In a show of tenderness she usually never demonstrated, Kat moved forward and brought her sister into her arms, hugging her tightly. Cass hugged her just as tightly, before gesturing for Talon to join in.

They embraced for what felt like hours, the warmth of one another's arms telling more than words ever could. And then Cass leaned away, ending their hug, and the siblings separated. The room was quiet as the siblings collected themselves.

"So, what now?" Talon asked.

Cass sighed. "I don't know," she admitted. "I'm at a loss, really. We have no leads, and only cryptic, vague threats from any number of parties. There's no... there's no discernible pattern. I can't figure out what they're up to, what we need to do." She was frustrated with herself, clearly; it wasn't often that Cass found herself powerless against others. But the Black Rose had rendered them all powerless.

"We keep up the facade of being perfect little Noxians," Kat said, making a decision. "Hopefully that keeps the Black Rose off our asses for a while. Meanwhile, we keep looking for any clues."

Talon had been silent until this point. "What about Demacia?"

Kat and Cass both turned to look a him. "What _about_ them?" Kat asked, confusion evident in her tone.

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend," he quoted. "The Demacians would jump at the chance to take down High Command, or any members of Noxus. That could include the Black Rose."

Cass sighed. "We know absolutely nothing about them outside of their name, and a vague idea of what they're after. Nothing substantial enough to definitively connect them to Noxus. The Demacians wouldn't accept us, though, regardless. We're Noxians. Despite the situation in which we find ourselves, we're still their enemies, and we have nothing to offer them in return."

Talon frowned and leaned back against the wall, letting out a sigh. "Damn," he mumbled.

Kat ran her hand through her hair. "What about the police?"

Cass shrugged. "They can't do anything to help us. They're incompetent."

"No, that's not what I meant," Kat said. She hurried to clarify. "We're staying in the police chief's house. Don't you think the Crownguards will start asking questions? Will wonder why we're here? Where our father is?"

Cass frowned. "Yes," she admitted. She shifted, tapping her manicured nails on the bedsheets. "Perhaps we ought to admit that we don't know where our father is. That he's... missing."

"We can't just tell them everything," Talon objected.

"Of course not," Cass agreed. "But we don't need to. Just spin it as if... It's normal for him to vanish for a few days." Cass's eyes widened, and her lower lip jutted out, quivering. Her eyes watered, and she put on an act that was incredibly convincing. "After the robbery, we were afraid to go home on our own, so we had only intended to stay until he returned. Only, it's been a week, and he's not back yet. We're worried. Could you help us find him, please?"

Kat snorted. "Okay, so we tell them," she said. "But what's the point of telling them Dad is missing? They'll investigate us. That could lead to... questions."

Cass shrugged. "Look," she said, "when it's a choice between keeping in the Crownguard's good graces, and being stuck with the Black Rose, I'll take what I can get. The Crownguards will appreciate honesty."

Talon guffawed. " _Honesty_ ," he chortled.

" _Partial_ honesty, then. God, why do you two make this so difficult," Cass complained. "They'll ask questions, as Kat suggested. It's easier to tell a half truth than a lie. It will check out with the police. Assuming Lux and Garen remain as open and inviting as they have been, we'll be allowed to stay here for a while yet."

Kat was sorely tempted to kick the bedframe again. But she refrained from doing so, for her sister's benefit. "We shouldn't _have_ to rely on them," she said, glaring at the floor. "We need to figure out what's happening."

"I agree," Talon said.

"And I don't disagree," Cass said. She sighed and ran a hand through her long hair, then twirled a lock at the end. "We have no leads. Let's work on fixing that, first."

"Anything in the family records?" Kat asked, referring to the thick tome Cassiopeia had been reading.

"Nothing," Cass said. "But I'm not even halfway through the book, yet."

Kat nodded. "And there was nothing at any of the safe houses."

Talon cleared his throat. "There might still be something in the security tapes you brought back," he said. He had been reviewing them in his spare time, though Kat suspected that he preferred to play video games with Lux than to sift through all of the footage. "But I haven't found anything, yet."

"Keep looking," Kat said. "There has to be _something_."

Kat clenched her fist, her fingernails biting into her skin—not quite hard enough to draw blood. They _would_ find their father. No matter what.

* * *

"I think it would be best if I just sent this back to you, my dear," Heimerdinger said as he wiped sweat from his brow. He looked towards the screen of his iPad and shook his head, his hair flopping wildly about his head at the motion. "I just don't seem to be able to find anything of import on this device, even when I follow your instructions to the letter."

Lux smiled at her screen. Communicating via email and phone hadn't seemed to help Heimerdinger crack the phone, so she had set up a video call. Despite her efforts, Heimerdinger just seemed clueless when it came to hacking phones.

Not that Lux was complaining. If this meant she would finally be getting the recognition she deserved—that she had _earned_ —then Lux couldn't help but smile wider. "If you think that's the best course of action," she told him, "I'm sure our... mutual acquaintances won't mind."

Heimerdinger snorted. "I don't know why Demacia sent this to me in the first place. I was delighted to design the suits and finally get some data about their success in the field. I didn't need any of these extra favors, though. I'll let them know to relegate any future technology if this sort to you if they want results in any sort of timely fashion."

Lux blinked in surprise. "Thank you," she said after a moment of consideration. "I'd... really appreciate that."

"And I must say, it's quite thrilling to be able to speak with someone of your age about advanced quantum physics. You're an extraordinarily bright young woman. Once you're ready for college, I hope you'll consider my school. I'll offer a full ride, tuition, room and board—I think you'd quite like it, here. And we certainly would love to have you." He grinned at her, and adjusted his glasses. "Well. It's been a pleasure to work with you, Miss Lux," Heimerdinger said. "Now, if you don't mind. I'm not quite sure how to end this call, maybe this button here—no, no, perhaps..."

Lux laughed as the older man fumbled with the technology in his hands. "It's been a pleasure working with you, too," she told him. She ended the call on her end, and then she leaned back in her chair with a contented sigh, a smirk on her lips.

Heimerdinger had acknowledged her skills as being superior to his own in this area. If that didn't convince Demacia to let her handle the hacking side of things from now on, nothing would.

A knock on her door startled her from her thoughts. She closed the application on her device and made her way to the door, opening it to reveal Cassiopeia.

The young woman was leaning against the doorframe, one arm across her stomach, and she was worrying at a nail. When the door opened, the young woman straightened immediately, though the worried frown on her face was still present.

"Cassiopeia," Lux said, uncertainty tainting her voice. "What are you doing up this late?" Lux and Garen had returned from their mission well past midnight, during the wee hours of the morning. It was a school night—Cassiopeia ought to be asleep.

"I couldn't sleep," the brunette admitted. She bit her lip, then asked, "May I come in?"

Lux hesitated. She didn't trust the DuCouteaus, not really. But if they wanted her dead, they'd had ample opportunity to kill her in her sleep. She opened her door wider. "Of course," she said as the older girl brushed past her. "You can sit on the bed. I don't have any other chairs." The only chair in her room was the one at her desk. She took that seat now, and Cassiopeia sat tentatively on the edge of Lux's bed, her movements stiff.

"I wanted... to thank you," Cassiopeia said. "My brother and sister can be a bit... abrasive and ungrateful at times. I don't think we've ever thanked you properly for letting us stay with you, and I just..." She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. This has just been a little bit... overwhelming, for all of us."

"You don't need to apologize," Lux said, and she meant it. _She_ was the one using _them_ , after all. Lux shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She hadn't expected Cassiopeia to get overly emotional, and honestly, Lux wasn't equipped to handle this kind of situation. Lux didn't feel as if she could comfort the young woman in a genuine way when she harbored no true feelings of friendship towards her. So if Lux could steer the conversation away from that... "Why did you want to see me?"

Cassiopeia eyed her, her eyes guarded in a way that made Lux wonder what she was guarding against. Then the other girl blinked, and the spell was broken. "I think... I don't think our father is off on one of his business trips, Lux. I think... I think he might be missing."

Lux was quiet, taking in this new information. "It's been more than a week," she said. "And your dad has been gone this entire time?"

Cassiopeia nodded. "That's not unusual. He goes on business trips often, without telling us. Sometimes he'll be gone for weeks at a time."

Lux frowned. "So what makes you think this time is different?"

Case inhaled deeply, averting her gaze from Lux's intense eyes. Then she exhaled roughly, and reached into her purse. From its depths, she pulled out a black rose.

Lux couldn't help but gasp as she recognized the rose. _That's the same kind that Garen found_! she thought. She noted the slight narrowing of Cassiopeia's eyes, and she quickly schooled her features. "I—I've never seen a black rose before," she said quickly, hoping the sorry excuse would work.

Cassiopeia gave no indication as to whether it had or not. She outstretched her arm, offering the rose. "Careful. Thorns," the other woman said as Lux gingerly took it from her, turning it over in her hands. The petals were dark, pure black, but preserved somehow. The stem was black.

"Don't tell my brother and sister. I found this at the safe house, the day our father disappeared. I didn't know what it was. I thought... I thought that it might be something left from my father. A gift... I don't know. But... but now, I'm not so sure. Even on his longer trips, Father has always contacted us... he's always let us know that he's okay. This time..." her voice trailed off, breaking at the end, and Lux would have to be blind to miss the way the other girl's eyes gleamed with tears she was obviously fighting to hold back.

Lux's crown deepened as a possibility occurred to her. Whoever was leaving these roses, they were obviously involved in Noxian dealings. If they had kidnapped Marcus DuCouteau...

"I tried to look up anything about black roses, but... I can't find anything useful," Cassiopeia said, swallowing. She swiped at her eyes before letting out a brisk laugh, more of a bark. "I'm sorry. I just... I don't know who else to turn to. The police prisons have been broken into, our father is missing... I don't know who to trust, anymore. Quite frankly, I don't trust you. But Talon does. And I trust my brother." She took a shaky breath. "Lux, if there is anything you can do to help, anything at all, I'm begging you. Please help us find our father."

Lux swallowed, then turned her gaze to the rose in her hands, unable to continue looking at those vibrantly green eyes, those pursed lips, that brow creased with worry and anxiety and _desperation_. Lux knew she ought to refuse. She ought to say she couldn't help, that there was nothing she could do. Any normal high school girl wouldn't be able to help—and if Lux helped, she knew that, logically, it could cause the DuCouteaus to realize that she wasn't just a regular teenager. The only logical option was to refuse.

But Lux's heart made the decision for her. She'd always been too kind, her brother had told her once. He didn't know that she'd learned it from him.

"Okay," she breathed. "I'll help you." She finally looked up from the black rose and met Cassiopeia's gaze.

Cassiopeia was quiet, stunned, for what seemed like days. But then a smile broke out on her face, and she brightened, and Lux thought she had never seen a smile so light before, so full. Almost unnaturally so.

"Thank you," Cassiopeia said quickly, the words a rush. "Lux, I—I can't tell you how much this means to me."

"Don't worry about it," Lux said, uncomfortable with the gratitude that the other girl was showering upon her. She swiveled around in her chair and opened up a new window, her fingers typing away at her keyboard.

"Let me see what I can find." Her first results didn't turn up anything significant, and her subsequent searches were fruitless, as well. Several minutes had passed, and Lux knew that she wouldn't be finding any results in the... conventional way.

"Well, I can't find anything right now," she admitted to Cassiopeia, who had been sitting ramrod straight on the bed the entire time. "But that doesn't mean anything. I'll keep looking, and if I find anything useful, I'll let you know. And I'll ask my father to help, too."

Cassiopeia nodded tightly. While Lux had been distracted with the search, the brunette must have taken the time to school her features and settle her emotions, for she looked as calm and collected as ever. "Thank you, Lux," Cassiopeia said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The older girl stood and, with enough hesitation for Lux to stop her if she wanted, she pulled the blonde into a brief hug. Then Cassiopeia took her leave, nodding before closing the door silently behind her.

Lux let out a heavy breath she hadn't known she had been holding. Cassiopeia... was intense. But seeing her so distraught, learning of the fear she was holding at bay... Lux was compelled to help. And she wasn't just helping Cassiopeia. No, she was helping Katarina and Talon, too.

Lux felt her cheeks heat at the thought of the young man, and she shook her head to dispel any stray thoughts she might have. She then returned to her computer, where the term "black rose" had yielded nothing of value.

Lux rubbed her hands together before opening a new window. It was time to get to work.

* * *

Cassiopeia closed the door behind her, and rolled her eyes at Kat, who was leaning against the wall next to the door.

Kat pushed herself off of the wall and followed her sister down the hall and around the corner, waiting until they were out of earshot of Lux's room before speaking.

"Oscar-worthy performance back there. You even had me convinced that you trusted her," Kat said.

Cass snorted. "I only trust that she's naive and easily manipulated. She fell for my act hook, line, and sinker."

"You're good at putting on the appropriate mask for the occasion. Always have been," Kat said as they walked back to her room.

Cass shrugged. "We all have our respective talents," she said quietly. "But after that exchange, I'm almost certain that Lux is hiding something. That there's more to her than meets the eye."

Kat rolled her eyes. "All I heard was a young girl wanting to do the right thing."

"Making a promise to help, a promise no ordinary young girl could keep," Cass said as they arrived in front of Katarina's room. She opened the door. "Lux and her brother are hiding something. I don't know what it is. I have my suspicions, but I don't want to jump to any conclusions without evidence."

Kat closed the door behind them, and Talon glanced up from his laptop, where he was reviewing the security tapes.

"What's this about Lux hiding something?" he asked.

"Cass is convinced the Crownguards are... up to something?" She looked at her sister, who threw her hands up in the air.

"You two don't /have/ to believe me," Cass crumbled. "I'll prove it."

"The worst Lux is capable of hiding is that she's secretly hiding a stash of candy in her room," Kat laughed.

Talon shrugged. "Don't sell her short. But Garen's the most squeaky clean individual I've met. He's not hiding anything-he has nothing to hide."

"He's honest," Kat added with a nod. /The most honest man I know/, she thought.

Cass rolled her eyes, but didn't further comment on the subject of the Crownguards' integrity. Instead, she said, "We should focus on finding our father. And with Lux involved, the police are sure to follow soon. It'll be difficult, but we need to keep our ties with Noxus hidden while we cooperate with the police."

Kat sighed and rubbed at her temples. "This is going to be a pain in the ass."

Cass laughed—a genuine laugh, a sound that Kat hadn't heard in _years_.

"Oh, Kat," Cass tittered, "That's the understatement of the century."

* * *

That night, sleep evaded Lux the way shadows do light. She rolled her eyes. An apt metaphor, she thought, when it came to the DuCouteau family. Who they were, what they wanted—why they were here. Answers they kept hidden, answers they wanted to stay hidden.

She had agreed to help Cassiopeia in the heat of the moment—when her heart had ached in sympathy, and perhaps something else, something darker. Cassiopeia had spoken with such conviction, such dedication, when it came to her father. What had he done to inspire such loyalty in his children? An image of her own father squirmed its way into her mind, and Lux's glare soured further.

She rolled onto her side, glaring at the moonlight that poured into her room through the window panes, silver and calm. She knew better than to think of her father, not when she wanted to sleep.

Lux closed her eyes and took a breath, counting to ten and repeating the process several times until she was calm enough to not want to scream.

Lux kept her eyes closed and forced her thoughts to turn to what Cassiopeia had spoken of. No... the _way_ she's spoken, the way she'd _moved._ She didn't trust the young woman, and she didn't trust that Cassiopeia was being honest in any way. Considering the timing of this sudden confession, Lux found it hard to believe that Cassiopeia could even be sincere.

But it had _seemed_ sincere. It had _looked_ sincere, had _sounded_ heartfelt. Lux let out an aggravated sigh and rolled onto her other side. Cassiopeia had appeared desperate and broken. And Lux had been played like a fiddle, following the tune the other young woman had sung. But there had been one moment—one smile—that had seemed _too_ perfect. There had been no flaws in the other girl's performance. And that was why Lux couldn't believe it.

And wasn't it convenient, how Cassiopeia had approached them with news of this black rose on the very same night that Garen had found another one?

It wasn't that Lux didn't believe coincidences like this could happen; there was always the possibility of the impossible. But Lux knew the math behind it—the statistical improbability of it. Lux narrowed her eyes.

If Cassiopeia was trying to play Lux, she was going to have to learn the hard way that when you play with fire, sometimes you get burned.

Lux sat up and made her way to the desk. She booted up her computer and pulled her hair back using a hair tie she'd left on her desk. After she'd entered her password and opened up the appropriate programs, Lux settled into her chair, ready for a long night with little sleep.

She _would_ find out what the DuCouteaus were hiding. No matter how long it took.

* * *

A/N: Uh... Hi. Sorry for the long absence. Life stuff happened. Dad got heart surgery, I've been dealing with anxiety, and... just, I've got a lot going on. Also, I'm really busy with school, so as usual, no promises on when the next update will be. I've been sitting on this chapter for a while, now, but I figured that if I didn't publish it now, I never will. So. Yeah.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

* * *

Right after Coach Freeman told them to begin their usual laps around the gym, Lux noticed Talon approach her from the corner of her eye.

"Hey, Lux," Talon said by way of greeting, and she turned to face him. She tilted her head to the side in question as they began to jog side by side, and he cleared his throat. "I was wondering... do you want to go grab some new games this afternoon?"

Her heart skipped a beat. She blinked.

He continued, his voice low. "We could... get more games. To play." He cleared his throat again. "If you want."

Lux couldn't help it—she was already smiling at his usually cool attitude reduced to this awkward demeanor, all because he was nervous about asking her to go buy games with him.

"Uh, sure," she said. And when he smile, a small and brief one, because Talon rarely let his emotions show on his face, she felt her heart skip a beat.

"Great. I'll call an Uber," he said.

She blinked. "Just the two of us?"

Talon's breath caught, and she thought she saw the beginnings of a rosy hue begin to tint his cheeks. "I hoped so. Unless you'd rather your brother drive us around."

Lux considered it. She didn't see any harm in her hanging out with Talon for the afternoon. And they _did_ need more games; they'd already beaten most of the ones Katarina had bought, as she hadn't bought many. She didn't have any plans for this afternoon, really; she'd hoped to sort through some of the data she'd gotten on the DuCouteaus, but the data wasn't going anywhere.

"Just the two of us, then," Lux said with a smile.

Gym class passed quickly after that, as did the rest of Lux's classes. She caught up with Garen in the hallway once school had ended, to let him know about her plans with Talon for the afternoon.

"I'm going with Talon to get new video games," Lux announced.

Garen blinked, and his brow furrowed. "I'll have to stop for gas," he said, and Lux hurried to explain.

"We're going to take an Uber. So you and Kat can head home without us."

The furrow on Garen's brow deepened. "You don't want me to drive you there?" he asked.

"Nope."

"Or drive you back?"

"Pretty sure both of us can afford a ride to and from the store," Lux said.

"Are you sure?" At this point, Lux was starting to get annoyed. She knew her brother meant well, but his need to hear her confirmation for everything was getting to be a bit much.

"Positive," she replied, hoping her annoyance didn't show in her tone.

Garen shrugged. "All right. Text me or call me if you need anything."

"Will do. See you," she said, waving her brother goodbye.

"See you later," her brother replied.

Lux made her way to her locker and gathered her things. When she turned to head outside and search for Talon, she was greeted by the sight of the young man leaning against the row of lockers on the opposite wall. Having not expected to see him, she started, and her breath caught in her throat.

"Ready to go?" Talon asked, quirking an eyebrow at her reaction to spotting him.

Though her heart rate hadn't quite settled, Lux rolled her eyes at his attempt of playing nonchalant. Though he seemed calm, she could see the excitement in the way his eyes glinted. "Obviously," she said, pointing at her backpack.

The young man smirked and pushed off the wall, and the two headed for the exit.

"Good," Talon said. "Our ride's here."

Though Lux had known Talon to be the silent type from her classes with him, the two eased into an easy conversation, ranging from school drama to tv shows to their favorite games. Lux found herself genuinely laughing and smiling, and she noticed Talon doing the same.

Their trip to the store passed quickly, as they both knew which games they wanted to try, and Talon insisted on paying for them. "I have the money," he said.

Lux countered with, "So do I."

He shrugged and replied, "I want to." And that was that.

The ride home was just as jovial as the ride to the store had been, and Lux found herself leaning into Talon as she laughed so hard she almost cried. Seeing the usually stoic Talon laughing his ass off was something Lux never thought she'd see, and one she was glad for. The way his dark eyes gleamed, the way he pushed his bangs out of his eyes and smiled at her—it made her heartrate skyrocket.

Too soon, they'd arrived at the Crownguard home, and Talon offered the driver a tip before the Uber drove away. He offered her a lopsided smirk, and Lux had just enough time to think that that was kind of cute before Talon nodded towards her and spoke.

"This was fun," he said as they made their way to the front door, and Lux nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, it was."

"Maybe we can do this again," Talon said, "Hang out."

Lux hesitated before answering, fiddling with her keys before turning them and opening the door. "I'd like that," she said with an honest smile.

She closed the door behind her, and the two were about to head down to the basement when a familiar and very, _very_ unwelcome voice from the living room halted their movements.

"Luxanna, you're home late from school."

Lux's smile fell immediately into a scowl, and she narrowed her eyes. "Hello, Mother," she said sharply.

* * *

At lunch, Katerina had taken a seat next to her sister, who was still poring over the large tome of family history with a horribly disinterested expression.

"Any luck?" Kat asked as she dropped her tray of food onto the table, dumped her backpack on the ground by her feet and fell back into her chair.

Cass rolled her eyes. "I sat down less than five minutes ago and have only read one paragraph. So no, nothing, really. Unless you're curious about great uncle Jared's obsession with bears."

Kat wrinkled her nose as she poked at the meat on her tray, trying to gauge whether it was undercooked or overcooked. Could it be both? "Did you read during your free period this morning?" she asked.

Cass sighed dramatically. "Unfortunately, no. Sivir decided to tell me all about her failed attempt to befriend Lulu, and how she's convinced Lulu didn't notice her because she was distracted by a squirrel."

Kat quirked an eyebrow. "Lulu... that little freshman kid who always wears purple?"

Cass nodded.

"Didn't think Sivir liked hanging out with cute little girls," Kat admitted.

"The only thing Sivir appreciates is gold. Cute little girls who are rich? Sivir likes hanging around them," Cass explained.

"Huh," Kat said as she decided to be venturous and took a bite of the mysterious meat. She made a face at the taste and decided to forego the meat in favor of the piece of bread and green beans on her tray.

Cass returned her attention to the family history, reading at a pace that made Kat wonder how many words per minute her sister could actually read. She read faster than Kat, that was for sure.

"You know, when father talked about the family history," Cass said, turning a page in the tome, "he always made it sound so glamorous. As if the DuCouteau lineage was rife with awe-inspiring deeds and admirable feats; a history to be proud of. And yes, there were many badasses in the family. But I'm currently reading about great grandfather's brother, Horus, and good _god_ , what an idiot..." Cass grumbled. "He collected _feathered hats_."

Kat snorted. "He's not the only family idiot," she teased before taking a sip of her milk, earning a withering glance from her younger sister.

Cass sighed dramatically. "You're right," Cass said, "Poor Talon, the sop."

Kat nearly spat out her milk at that. She swallowed quickly, then let out a quick bark of laughter. "Where is he, anyway?" she asked.

Cass nodded to a table behind Kat, and Kat turned in time to see Talon smirking at Garen's little sister.

"Gross," Kat muttered before stabbing at her mystery meat perhaps a little harder than necessary, especially considering she had no intention of eating it.

"Following his dick. How typical of a man," Cass said, a teasing grin lighting up her eyes. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous, dear sister."

Kat scoffed. "Why would I be jealous of him? He's trying to date _Lux_. Bright, cheery Lux and our broody, moody Talon? What's there to be jealous of?"

"The unabashed flirting? The 'I don't care who sees me' attitude? I don't know, Kat—why don't you tell me?" Cass asked with a pointed stare.

Kat could feel her cheeks warming at the implication. "I... I am _not_ jealous," she mumbled, stabbing at the food on her tray with renewed vigor. "Besides, I wouldn't be jealous of them flirting. I can flirt with any one. Any time. Name a person, and I can flirt with them—why does that even matter? Flirting is easy. It's fun. It's not supposed to..." she trailed off as she realized Cass had returned to the book with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. "I'm _not_ jealous," she reaffirmed with a huff.

"If you say so," Cass said in a tone that meant she didn't believe Kat.

They were silent as Kat chugged down the rest of her milk, pointedly not looking at her younger sister. Finally, after a full five minutes of silence, Kat scowled. "Why do you even think that?"

"Think you're jealous?"

"Yeah. That. I'm not."

Cass rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm not _blind_. I notice when you flirt with someone, whether you're open about it or not."

"I haven't been flirting with anyone," Kat protested.

"Mmhmm," Cass said. "Look, it's not my business. To be honest, I don't understand what you even find attractive in him. But if you ever want to... talk... I'm here to listen."

Kat scoffed, stabbing at her food. Then she narrowed her eyes and looked at Cass. "Why are you suddenly so interested in my love life? You never cared before now."

"Dear, it's your _lack_ of a love life that's drawing my attention," Cass said with a smirk.

"Don't 'dear' me all condescendingly," Kat grumbled, and, finally having had enough with the food on her tray, she stabbed the meat one more time before standing abruptly. "Look, Cass, I appreciate you looking out for me. But you're just imagining things," she said, an image of Garen flashing briefly through her mind as she denied having any sort of romantic feelings.

Cass shrugged before Kat wandered off to dump her tray in the trash can.

When she returned, Cass was thoroughly absorbed in her text, and so Kat decided to pass the rest of her lunch period by reading some of the books for her English project. _God_ , she thought as she paged through to find where she had left off last, _I can't believe I'm actually reading_. She couldn't exactly say that she loved reading these books, but she also couldn't deny that she did appreciated seeing some of the arguments they presented, and the interesting points they made.

Not that she'd ever admit that to Garen.

The rest of the day slid by smoothly. Kat elected to continue reading instead of paying attention in Physics, and she did the same in Pre-Cal, where she usually never paid attention because she could just copy off of Ziggs, anyway. The kid was sort of a genius, but—like most smart people—he didn't know how to hide his work, so she was able to lean over her desk and copy off of his tests.

By the end of the day, Kat had finished one of her books, and was two chapters into the next one. As she walked through the hallway in the direction of her locker, she ran into Garen, who waved at her and offered her a wide smile. She quirked her eyebrow in response as he made his way towards her.

"Good afternoon, Katarina," he said.

Something about the formality rubbed her wrong, today. She knew it was just how Garen was, always sure to not step over any unnamed boundaries, but… "Kat," she corrected, sparing him a glance long enough to see his cobalt eyes widen slightly. "Call me Kat."

"Kat," he said quietly, trying out the nickname, and Kat couldn't help but shiver at the sound as his low, rich voice murmured her name. She turned to her locker, deliberately avoiding the gaze she felt boring into the back of her head.

"What's up?" she asked as she opened her locker and began stuffing her textbooks and notebooks inside it haphazardly, not caring to organize her things when she could feel goosebumps rising on the back of her neck where Garen was looking.

"Oh, right," he said, and she contained a snort at the realization that he had been distracted from earlier. "It's just going to be us, today," he continued.

Kat paused in her movements to glance at him, confusion evident in the furrow on her brow. "What do you mean, just us?" she asked.

"Lux and Talon are going to go buy video games. Lux said your brother was going to do the… the Uber app, thing," Garen said, gesturing vaguely with his hands, and Kat laughed a little.

"The 'Uber app thing,' huh?" she echoed, and watched with delight as the tips of his ears reddened.

"Yes. That," he said, scratching at the back of his neck. "And your sister told me this morning that she would be staying late to do some research in the library with her biology partner. She said to leave without her. She's also going to be using—"

"The Uber app thing," Kat finished, a smirk on her lips. She closed her locker and shifted her backpack over her shoulder.

"Yes," Garen agreed.

"So… just us," Kat remarked, echoing his words as she leaned against her locker, and Garen nodded.

"I was thinking," he went on, "that maybe, since the others are busy doing things… do you want to go do something, too?" His ears were redder than before. "We could go straight home, if you wanted, but I thought it might be, uh, more entertaining, if we… did something."

Kat laughed. "Go 'do something,' huh?" She hurried to continue, or else she knew Garen would offer some sort of unnecessary apology. "Sounds like fun. Did you have anything in mind?"

Garen cleared his throat. "There's a new gelato place that opened up around the corner. If you like gelato."

Kat had heard about the new gelato place. It was a little shop, very cute and homey, apparently—a place Kat would usually never be caught dead in. But it seemed like she was developing a weakness to Garen's earnest eyes, because she found herself nodding in acquiescence. "Sure," she said.

So Kat found herself following Garen to the car, as he talked animatedly about all of the new flavors the gelato place was trying out, and how he wanted to talk to the owner and see if he could find out the recipes. The ride there took almost no time at all, and she found herself laughing as Garen cracked a joke about one of the songs that played on the radio.

Even with all of the shit going on in the rest of her life, even with the fear of losing her father, the threat of the Black Rose, and the uncertainty that was drowning her, Kat felt at ease around Garen. Being around him was like taking a deep breath after being held underwater until her lungs burned, as if he were something she needed, something she couldn't get enough of.

And that thought could have given Kat pause; she could have taken a step back, could have turned away and forced herself to forget Garen and the way he made her heart flutter. But as they looked at the flavors of ice cream, as Garen sampled almost all of the flavors and chatted with the owner about recipes and how to prepare gelato, Kat realized that she didn't want to. She didn't want to leave this feeling, to ignore the way Garen glanced sidelong at her and smiled and her heart skipped a beat.

It was a scary feeling, one she'd never felt before. One she didn't think she could continue to attribute solely to hormones.

As Garen handed her her gelato, and they dug into the soft ice cream, Kat decided to ignore those thoughts, to just focus on the now that was _them_.

"I think I can make this at home," Garen said once they had finished. "The recipe sounds simple enough. It shouldn't take too long, either."

"Can you make it chocolate?" Kat asked, licking at her spoon. She didn't miss the way Garen's eyes followed her lips, and the way he swallowed.

"I think so," he replied after a moment of collecting himself.

Kat smirked, took another bite of gelato, and then licked the spoon again, this time slower, a pleasant warmth and confidence spreading through her as she noticed the way Garen's ears reddened, and the way his eyes dropped to follow her tongue.

He swallowed again and cleared his throat. "Did you manage to get some reading done for our project?" he asked, quickly changing the subject.

What a way to dampen the mood, Kat thought, holding back a frown at the change of subject. It was as if he had deliberately chosen the least exciting topic, the one that would make her stop her teasing right away. Maybe he _had_ done that deliberately…

"Yes, _Mom_ ," she grumbled.

Garen's expression immediately turned into a mix of confusion and shock. " _'Mom'_?" he breathed, horrified.

"It's a joke," Kat explained. At his continued look of confusion, she added, "Because you're breathing down my neck about homework? Like a mother?"

Garen blinked. "I didn't mean to… breathe down your neck." He sighed. "I suppose I might come off as overbearing, at times."

"Don't worry about it," Kat said, waving off his concerns with a hand. "You're not. Well, you can come off a bit strong—especially at the beginning of this damn project—"

"Language!" Garen said half-heartedly, knowing she wouldn't stop cursing, and she continued as if he hadn't interrupted.

"—but you've toned it down. It was a joke. Don't take it seriously." Kat scrunched up her nose in distaste. "You know, when you have to explain a joke, it's not funny, anymore."

Garen laughed slightly, a little embarrassed. "Sorry. I don't have many friends—and they don't share your aptitude and penchant for sarcasm."

Kat snorted. "Aptitude? Really, Garen?"

He nodded. "You're quite good at it. I stand by my word choice." Her cheeks flushed at his comment.

She shook her head in faux-exasperation, but she could tell by his grin that he knew she was joking. Kat finished her gelato quickly, glancing up from her cup every now and then; she couldn't be sure, but she thought she caught Garen staring a couple of times before he looked away. Once she'd finished, Garen offered to throw away their cups, but Kat waved him away as she took both of theirs.

"You paid," she said by way of explanation, and then threw away the trash.

On the way back in the car, Garen asked, "Are we still on for Friday night?"

Kat blinked before she remembered that she had agreed to go see a movie with him. And their siblings. "Yeah," she said.

"Is there any movie you want to see, in particular?" he asked, and she shook her head.

"Not really," she replied. Kat hadn't been paying attention to what was in theaters, especially with everything going on. She was more concerned with surviving, with finding out where her father had been taken.

"Well, there's this new animated movie out. I think Lux would like it a lot. We haven't seen a movie together in a long time, and I was wondering if… well… if it would be all right to watch a cartoon movie."

Kat shrugged. "I don't care," she admitted. That was only a little lie—she did prefer action movies, for the most part. But cartoons were all right. "As long as it's not stupid."

Garen laughed. "It might be. It's a cartoon."

"Some cartoons are good," Kat said. "Have you seen that one Ghibli film with the princess who kills people? That's cool."

Garen's eyes had widened as he drove. "I don't know what a Ghibli is, but that sounds extremely violent!"

Kat shrugged. "Have you never seen blood and guts before?" she teased.

"I have," he defended, "it's just… real life and the media… excess violence in the media you consume is supposed to be unhealthy for you, mentally. Studies have shown—"

"Oh, come on. What's a little blood compared to—" Kat cut herself off immediately, eyes widening as she realized what she had almost said. _Compared to the shit I've seen._ She'd almost implied that she had seen blood and guts in real life before—that she'd killed before. Garen would be horrified to discover that she was actually a part of Noxus, that she was a trained killer—that she could kill a man without batting an eye. He would see her differently; he'd never speak with her again, if he found out the truth. And that thought left a sour taste in her mouth. "Compared to all the other shit on television," she finished lamely.

Garen sighed. "Our society is so hyper-focused on violence. It's fairly concerning, but I think that perhaps it means we're having to compensate for something, something that's missing from our lives."

"Something missing? Like what?" Kat asked.

The tips of his ears reddened, but he squared his shoulders before speaking. "I… I think our society lacks empathy. Compassion." Taking her silence as a cue for him to continue, he said, "To me, the excessive violence is a form of retaliation, a manifestation of the anger we feel towards others for not being able to empathize with one another. The anger we feel towards ourselves at not being able to connect on such a fundamental level with another person." He shook his head, a small grin lighting his lips. "That probably sounds really dumb."

Kat considered his words. "A little," she admitted, and she didn't miss the way Garen sunk a little lower in his seat. She reached out and laid a hand over his, where it rested on the gear shift. "But maybe there's some truth to that." She squeezed his hand gently, and perhaps she imagined it, but maybe his breath hitched—just like hers—at the contact, the jolt of electricity that ran up her arm, warmth spreading from his hand to hers.

He sat up straighter in response. "What do you think?" he asked, and she considered his position.

"I think humans are naturally violent," she said. "We hunt, we kill, we hurt. It's part of our nature," she reasoned, considering her next words carefully. And if she let her thoughts get personal, if she let a bit of herself slip into her words, what did it matter? "But that doesn't mean we lack compassion. We just… need reminders."

Garen hummed as he took in her opinion, and he turned into the driveway of the Crownguard mansion. Once he'd parked the car and taken the keys out of the ignition, he turned to face Kat. "Maybe we're both right, in some way," he mused.

Kat shrugged, and offered him a smirk. "How philosophical," she teased, and he chuckled.

"What can I say? I'm deeply concerned with the truth," he joked. "For instance—do you think your brother and my sister like each other?"

Kat grimaced. "Gross," she said as they exited the car. "Don't even joke about that. I don't want to think about it."

Garen chuckled. "It is a little strange to think about," he admitted. He frowned. "And… yes, a little gross, thinking that my sister might like your brother." He hummed as he considered it. "They seem so different," he said after some time.

Kat shrugged. "I try not to think about it," she replied. "Hey, what's for dinner?" she asked, changing the topic as he swung open the door and they made their way inside.

"I was thinking of making chicken cordon bleu, with some vegetables on the side." Garen said, enthusiasm coloring his words as they walked into the living room. "What sort of vegetables do you—?"

They stopped short as they entered the room and saw two people already occupying the chairs in the living room. Kat couldn't help but notice the way Garen stiffened, the light in his eyes from earlier vanishing in a second as his eyebrows drew together, and his eyes narrowed. He pressed his lips together tightly, but was silent.

It wasn't difficult to guess who these two were. The one sitting on the chair closest to Kat was a middle-aged woman, her blonde hair likely dyed to keep the gray hairs from giving away her actual age. She wore a cerulean dress, as if she were plucked straight out of some impressionist painting, and she sat with her back straight and her legs crossed at the ankles. Her eyes were a hooded green, as if she was keeping secrets darker than even the ones the DuCouteaus kept. Her lips were pressed together in much the same way Garen's were as the woman regarded Katarina with a barely contained expression of disdain. The resemblance was hardly there, outside of the shape of her face and the press of her lips, but this woman was obviously Garen's mother.

And the man who sat beside her was clearly his father. The man was older, and Kat knew he was in his mid forties, with greying hair. He sported a mustache, and his brow was wrinkled as he frowned. His blue eyes were the same startling shade as his childrens', and those eyes watched Kat with a glint that she was all too familiar with—suspicion. He wore his police uniform, decorated with various medals and awards, and as the light caught the badge on his chest, Kat became acutely aware of the fact that, if this man wanted, he could jail her and her siblings at any moment. And she was currently living under his roof.

"Garen," the woman said after a beat of silence, her gaze moving to her son. "Welcome home."

If Kat hadn't been standing beside him, she wouldn't have noticed the way the cords of his neck tightened and then relaxed, like he had forced himself to hold back a sharp retort. "I should say the same to you, Mother," Garen said in an uncharacteristically tight voice. Kat had never heard him so… on edge.

"We just returned from our vacation this morning, while you and your sister were in school," his mother said.

"And you neglected to tell us that you were coming home early," Garen said, his voice sharp and cold.

"We didn't want to disturb you or your sister in your studies," his mother said by way of explanation, as if the excuse was a valid one, a fact Kat had to force herself to keep from pointing out. His parents already rankled at her, and she was ready to bolt from the room whenever Garen did.

When his mother turned her eyes to Kat and gave her a once over, the distaste not even hidden as her upper lip curled back, Kat began to wonder if it would be worth it to throw a dagger into the woman's neck. Definitely not, she knew. But the thought settled the angry heat rising in her chest. Garen's mother smiled, a fake, sickeningly sweet one that Kat had seen too often at social functions. It was a smile that told Kat that she and Mrs. Crownguard shared the same sentiments towards one another: animosity and distaste.

"You must be Katarina DuCouteau," Mrs. Crownguard said. "When Lux told us Marcus' children would be staying with us, well, I must admit, I didn't know what to expect. But you seem like a charming young woman. I've heard lots of good things about you from your father."

Kat started, her eyes widening. "You know my father?" she asked. Her father had never mentioned the Crownguards outside of recognizing their position in law enforcement; he'd never said anything to suggest that he knew them on a personal level.

"Of course, dear," Garen's mother said, that sickening smile still plastered on her lips. "Your father worked with my husband on a few cases, and they were friends when they were younger."

"That was a long time ago," said Garen's father in a deep, rough rumble. He leaned back, draping his arm behind his wife and fixing Kat with a pointed stare. "Lux tells me that your father has gone missing."

Garen glanced at Kat, his brow furrowing slightly. Evidently, while Lux had informed her parents about Cass' concerns from the night before, she had forgotten to do the same for her brother.

"We don't know for sure," Kat said, fighting the urge to cross her arms. Body language, Cass had said, can make or break a deal; crossed arms were a surefire way to alienate whoever you were talking to, and Kat couldn't afford to lose the Crownguards' protection. "My siblings and I haven't heard from him since the break-ins, and… we're worried."

Mr. Crownguard nodded, regarding her carefully. "I'll have a team look into it. We'll need your full cooperation during our investigation. Do you understand?"

Did Kat understand that he was implying that she and her siblings would have to follow whatever orders this man gave to them? That they were under his protection, and he knew it? That, if they made one wrong move, said one wrong word, he would throw them in jail without a moment's notice? Yes, she understood. God, Cass should be the one doing the talking, now, but she was still at school doing her project—it was up to Kat, now. If she was missing something, if there was some other underlying message she just wasn't picking up on… well, she couldn't help it, now.

"I do," she replied curtly.

Garen's father regarded her cooly, then nodded. "Good." He opened his mouth to speak once more, but was interrupted by Garen.

"Father," Garen said, "Katarina and I have a school project we need to be working on. If you'll excuse us." He glanced at Kat and gestured for her to follow. Without waiting to be dismissed by his parents, Garen strode out of the room.

Kat glanced at the senior Crownguards to gauge their reaction; they had both tensed, but they said nothing.

"Excuse us," Kat said quickly, then followed Garen out of the room and up the stairs, towards his room.

His footsteps were heavy and quick. When he opened his door, she caught a glimpse of his pale face, noted the heavy press of his lips and the glower he was leveling ahead of him. She thought she had seen him angry before, at the park, when they had argued; that had nothing on this. His shoulders were tensed and set. His hands were clenched into fists, curled so tight that his knuckles were white. He held the door open so that she could enter behind him, and then he closed it with much more force than necessary.

Kat gave him some space as he ran a hand through his hair, and she glanced around his room, taking in its appearance. It was mostly sparse; the walls were bare, and his desk was clear except for a few notebooks and a Pre-Cal textbook. His bed was made, the corners of his sheets tucked in, his pillows arranged neatly. The bedside table had only an alarm clock for decoration. He had a single bookcase against the wall, which was filled mostly, upon closer inspection, with nonfiction books which varied in topic from martial arts to medieval swordfighting. She picked up a worn copy of Sun Tzu's _The Art of War_ and, figuring she had given him enough time to cool off, she turned to face him, waving the book in her hand.

"You seem to like this book," she remarked, and Garen glanced at her from where he still stood by the doorway. His shoulders dropped, and he let out a sigh as he made his way to his bed and sat on the edge, gesturing for her to take a seat, too. She dropped into the rolling chair by his desk and rolled it closer, book still in hand.

"I've read it several times," he admitted as she offered the book to him and he took it, paging through it without really looking. "It's… an engaging read."

"I thought it was boring as hell," Kat said, and he tilted his head to look at her.

"You've read it?" he asked, and Kat nodded.

"My Dad made me read it when I was a kid." At his continued stare, she hurried to supply an explanation that didn't involve 'my Dad wanted me to know how to strategize so I could sneak into buildings better and kill people.' "I… uhh… he said it would help with business… since business is a lot like a battlefiled." Wow. Real smooth. She was glad Cass wasn't here to laugh at that terrible excuse.

For some reason, Garen bought it, or maybe he just decided to let the lame excuse go. "I see," he said. He was quiet then, staring at the cover of the book in his hands, and Kat wondered what he was thinking.

"I'm sorry about… that," he said, gesturing vaguely towards the living room, where his parents were probably still sitting. "I didn't know they would be back."

Kat was quiet, then shrugged. "They seem all right," she lied.

"They aren't," Garen said curtly, and the air filled with a silence so thick, Kat could probably cut it with one of her daggers. Garen took a deep breath. "They're not good people. Don't trust them."

Kat narrowed her eyes at Garen, whose gaze was fixed on the book still in his hands. What had happened between him and his parents? She'd never seen Garen like this before; usually, he was the most trusting, kind individual, willing to believe in others no matter what. But this…

"We need their help," Kat said, careful with her words and watching Garen to see his reaction. He stiffened, but said nothing. "Our Dad is missing, Garen," she explained, frustration creeping into her voice—frustration that he continued to be silent, to not look her in the eye. Frustration that she was stuck in this situation, that she had no idea how to find her father, much less save him. "Even if I don't trust your parents, I need their help."

Garen sighed, finally looking up. "Be careful, then," he said. "They won't hesitate to stab you in the back. If your father is involved in anything shady, my father might try to peg it onto you three. He hates the DuCouteaus."

Kat blinked, taking in the new information. "Why?" she asked, confused.

Garen shrugged. "Your father and my father don't exactly get along," he said. "All I know is that it had something to do with a chess competition when they were younger."

"Is… is your dad holding a grudge against my dad because of lousy game?" Kat asked, somehow affronted by the very notion.

Garen shrugged again. "I really don't know," he admitted. "There's probably more to it. But my parents never talk about it. I only know about the chess thing because of—" he cut himself off. He seemed to consider his words, hesitant to continue, and Kat decided to change the subject. If he didn't want to divulge all of his private life, she wouldn't force him to—she could certainly sympathize. But before she could think of something to say, Garen spoke. "My father's an alcoholic," he said quietly. "Sometimes he'll say things, do things, that he wouldn't while sober. One night, he came into the house screaming, smashing things. He ruined the dining room, yelling about how he hated your father. I only overheard a bit before I went to my room."

Kat's heart constricted at the revelation. Suddenly, Garen's mannerisms made sense; his hesitation to offend, his constant attempts to be nice, to please others. His devotion to right and wrong—his determination to be good. He didn't want to be like his father; he wanted to be better. Without thinking about it, she reached out and put her hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, and he put his hand over hers, and, hesitantly, their fingers intertwined, and he squeezed her hand gently.

"Don't worry about it," he said just as quietly. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, and Kat couldn't stop the shiver that ran up her arm, goosebumps left in its wake. "Just…" he said, his voice low, "be careful around my parents."

"I will," she promised, her voice breathless.

"Promise?" he asked, looking into her eyes, and her breath caught as she met those bright, clear blue eyes. Her heart was racing, as if she had just run a mile at breakneck speed.

She nodded. "Promise," she said, her voice low and breathy, and she wondered, briefly, when she had started leaning forward towards him, when he had started leaning into her. She glanced down towards his lips, then back to his eyes. She leaned closer, closing the distance between them, and her eyes began to flutter shut as she felt his breath against her lips.

A loud slam from downstairs interrupted the moment, and they both leaned back, each one pretending that nothing had happened despite the blushes on their cheeks that said otherwise. Garen ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat, and Kat tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, both making a point to avoid looking at the other.

Foosteps from the hallway offered a welcome distraction, and the door to Garen's room was thrown open, revealing a red-faced Lux.

"Did you know they'd be back today?" Lux snapped, and Kat quirked an eyebrow at the sharp tone that was so unlike the bubbly Lux she'd come to know. Talon hovered outside the door in the hallway, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. When Kat looked at him questioningly, he shrugged.

"I had no idea," Garen said, crossing his arms, "I was just as shocked as you to find them home."

Lux took a deep breath, opened her mouth to say more, and then she spotted Kat. Lux closed her mouth, frowning, and she seemed to reconsider whatever it was she had been about to say. The blonde took a deep breath, and her expression turned blank in a surprising display of control over her emotions. "We need to talk," she said, her voice level, but Kat could still hear the hint of anger coloring the blonde girl's words.

Garen hesitated, glancing at Kat. "I—" he began but Kat stood.

"It's fine. We'll go to our rooms, leave you two alone," Kat said, and Garen gave her a grateful glance. Kat nodded at Lux as she passed her, and she left the room, closing the door behind her. Talon fell into step behind her as Kat led the way to her room.

She dove onto her bed face first, letting out a heavy breath before rolling over. Talon closed the door behind them and settled onto the floor against the wall, stretching out his long legs as he shrugged his backpack off and deposited it next to him.

"That was weird," Talon mumbled, and Kat snorted.

"You're telling me." She was quiet for a few seconds, thinking over her conversation with Garen, trying her best to avoid thinking about what had happened after it. "Garen told me not to trust his parents." She bit her lip. "I don't think he likes them."

"From the way Lux glared at them, I think that's an understatement," Talon said. "I think 'hate' is the more fitting word."

Kat groaned. "Why the hell do they hate their own parents?" Honestly, before today, if anyone would have told Kat that the Crownguard children hated their parents, she would have laughed in their face and called them a liar. Lux seemed too bubbly and sweet to be able to harbor any sentiments of anger or hate towards _anyone_ , let alone her parents. And Garen seemed like the kind of young man who would get along well with his parents. "What did they _do_?"

Talon shrugged. "Beats me."

"Maybe Cass knows. Or could find out," Kat mused.

"Where is she, anyway?" Talon asked.

"Biology project, apparently," Kat said with a shrug. Talon frowned.

"Mr. Ivern didn't assign any projects," he said. "Sure it's for biology?"

"You don't take biology," Kat pointed out, "how would you know?"

"I've been hanging out with Lux," Talon explained, "she has friends in biology who never shut up about the cute animals Mr. Ivern has in his room." At Kat's raised eyebrow, he continued, "They talk. A _lot_."

Kat sat up, leaning back on her arms. "So… Cass isn't staying after school to work on a project?" she asked. "What's she up to, then?"

Talon shrugged. "Beats me," he said for the second time that day, and Kat rolled her eyes. She grabbed a pillow and tossed it lazily towards him, and he plucked it out of the air before it hit him square in the face.

"You're useless," Kat joked, batting away the pillow after he threw it towards her.

"Guilty as charged," Talon replied, a small smile on his lips. Then his smile fell, and he looked at her seriously. "I was looking over the security tapes during class," he said.

"You watch them at school, Talon?" Kat asked, exasperated. "People could see," she cautioned.

He waved off her concerns. "I sit in the back row. Besides, all it looks like is a bunch of rooms. If anyone asks, I'll just tell them I'm watching a show on Netflix, or something."

Kat rolled her eyes. "Did you find something?" she asked.

He scratched at his chin. "Maybe," he said. "I didn't get very far. School let out right as things started to happen." He rummaged in his backpack for a bit and retrieved his laptop. He opened it and tossed the plug at her. "Plug this in, will you?" he asked as he began typing, and though Kat rolled her eyes, she complied.

"There. Look," he said, standing up and sitting on the edge of the bed, angling his laptop so they both could see the security footage he had pulled up.

A dark van pulled up on the side street—the one Kat had noticed outside the building.

"That's them," she breathed, and Talon nodded.

"Thought so," he said as he pressed play, and the footage displayed a figure hopping out of the van. Kat recognized him.

"That's the man I killed," she said, "the one running the operation." They watched as the man approached three other men on the street, handed them some cash, and then proceeded to pick the lock to enter the building. They watched as the men searched the entire building, every room, from top to bottom, and Talon switched between several cameras to track their progress. Finally, they came upon the room where the DuCouteau family had stored boxes of information, and the man said something before directing the rest of the group to begin sorting through the boxes. Here, Talon set it to fast forward, and not an hour later, Garen's blue truck pulled up outside of the building. He paused it then, since they knew what had happened afterwards.

"That black van…" Kat mumbled, and Talon rewound the footage until he could pause on a frame where the van was first visible. He began moving forward slowly, then, frame by frame.

"Let me see if I can find a plate number," Talon muttered. After several frames, he huffed, unsuccessful. The footage had been too grainy to make out a license plate easily. "I can run it through some programs, see if I can clear up the visuals," Talon grumbled, clearly dissatisfied by the quality of the tapes. "It'll take a few hours, though. At least."

Kat nodded. "Do it," she said, and Talon began pulling up some programs Kat had never heard of and running the tapes through them.

"Three hours," he said, then closed the lid of his laptop, "How annoying."

Kat threw herself back onto the bed, letting her back sink into the mattress. She glared at the ceiling as worry gnawed at her. "It's been five days since Dad was abducted," she said softly. She didn't have to say anything else. Talon knew how much danger their father was in, that he could be being tortured, or worse.

"We'll find him," he said as he deposited his laptop on the floor and began to dig around in his backpack. "Here. Look," he said, and he tossed something in Kat's direction. With her quick reflexes, she caught it from the air, and then she sat up and turned to him quizzically, the item still in hand.

"The fuck?" she asked, glancing back down at the pack of stickers he had thrown in her direction. They were stars. Goddamned _stars_.

"To cheer you up," he mumbled, pulling his phone from his pocket and swiping to unlock it.

"Why," Kat said, bemused, "are you carrying star stickers?" She couldn't help but smile, stupid as the gesture was. "What is this, kindergarten?"

"Saw them at the store," Talon said, "Lux thought they were cute. So I bought some for her, and for you and Cass, too."

"You bought them for us, since we just _love_ cute things," Kat said, her eyes crinkling as her grin widened.

"You guys like cute things. Even though you pretend not to," Talon said with a shrug. "I've seen the kitten pictures on your phone."

The grin fell from her face immediately, and she sputtered, "I—I don't like kittens—"

"And the puppies," he added.

She felt her face heat up, and she stared down at the stickers in her hand. "… Have you seen their paws," she grumbled. Talon opened his mouth as if to reply, but, thankfully, Kat was saved from whatever embarrassment he was about to unleash upon her by a knock on her door.

"Katarina, it's me," said Garen's voice from the other side of the door, and Kat's heart skipped a beat. She stuffed the star stickers under her pillows and glared at Talon, who was smirking at her as she made her way to answer the door.

"Hey," she said as she swung it open and was greeted by the sight of Garen and his little sister.

"Lux and I were wondering if you want to go out for dinner tonight, instead of eating in," he said.

It was as if Garen and Lux were trying to avoid coming out and saying that they hated their parents; they said it in every way except aloud. It was obvious that they wanted to go out to eat to avoid having to share a table with their parents. Kat glanced at Talon, who nodded, before nodding herself. "We're down," she said.

Kat called Cass, who said to go without her, that she'd be home late. It was unusual for Cass to be so vague in her replies to Kat; usually, she was explicit about her intentions and activities, so that Kat wouldn't accidentally misinterpret anything. It made Kat a little worried, what with everything else that had been going on; but Cass seemed fine, really, so Kat decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.

Garen drove them to a small diner that wasn't too far from the Crownguard household, and they all enjoyed their meals. The conversation was mostly provided by Lux, and—surprisingly—Talon. The two spoke easily, exchanging jokes, and when Garen gave Katarina a look across the table that said, 'I told you so', she scrunched her nose as if she had eaten something nasty.

When they returned home, Garen's parents had, fortunately, gone to sleep, meaning that none of the teenagers were forced to interact with them. It was clearly a relief to Garen, whose shoulders had been tensed as they stepped inside the house until they fell when he realized his parents were already in bed.

"Tonight was fun," Garen said, smiling at the small group. "We should hang out again."

"Absolutely!" Lux said, and Talon nodded in agreement.

"The movies," Kat said. When Lux and Talon gave her a confused glance, she elaborated, "Garen wants us all to go to the movies on Friday."

Lux's eyes widened, and she turned to Garen. "To see the new Pixar movie?" she asked, excitement coloring her voice.

Garen nodded. "Yes."

With a squeal, Lux wrapped her older brother in a hug, and Talon chuckled at her antics. As Kat watched Garen's eyes soften, his arms wrapped gently around his younger sister, Kat realized something. While her heart skipped a beat and her own gaze softened, she realized that she didn't just have a stupid crush on Garen. She definitely, _definitely_ , was falling for him. Hard. He was just so damned sweet, and charming, and funny—and seeing this soft side of him, the caring side that really only came out around his younger sister—it made her realize that she wanted to see more of him. She wanted to see him laugh so hard he cried, she wanted to see him smile until his cheeks hurt, she wanted to see him—god, how stupid was this?—wearing an apron and teaching her how to cook meals. She became acutely aware of this want, this want for _Garen_ , and as she watched him turn his gaze to her, and saw the corners of his eyes lift as his grin widened, she felt as if her heart was going to burst.

 _Shit_ , she thought.

* * *

The grass crunched under Cassiopeia's shoes, and she held back a grimace. Her shoes were white, for goodness' sake—if she had to take out grass stains tonight after she got home, she would be _very_ unhappy. That would take a fair amount of time, and she was already out late. She made sure to walk carefully from there on, each step calculated and precise.

She made her way across the park and saw a figure huddled under a pine tree, cloaked in shadow. A beam of moonlight fell across the figure's side, enough for Cass to catch the glint of metal as the figure shifted upon catching sight of her. Cass was familiar enough with weapons to recognize a gun, even in the darkness of the night.

"You're late," said the woman, rising to her feet in a swift motion and swiping the dirt off of her pants.

"I was… held up," Cass said. Really, she'd been late on purpose, wanting to test whether the woman in front of her would stay or not—if she was really interested in hearing Cassiopeia's proposal. She was still here—so, clearly, she was interested. Though the plan was risky, Cass hoped it would pay off and, judging by the woman's presence, she wanted to make this work, too. Even so, Cass's heartbeat pounded in her ears, and she had to force herself to remain calm, to at least keep up the appearance of being cool and composed.

"Follow me," the woman said, and she swept to the other side of the park, where a car with tinted windows pulled up to the curb. The woman opened the door and held it open for Cass.

"After you," the woman said, and Cass offered a gracious smile before sliding into the backseat. The woman slid in beside her, and shut the door. "Let's take a drive and work out the details, Miss DuCouteau."

Cass nodded as the car began to move, and she met the dark eyes of the woman in front of her. She smiled, polite and polished. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss…"

The woman smiled, a tight, crisp upward curl to her lips that didn't meet her eyes. "Call me Caitlyn. I'm sure you already knew that. You've quite the impressive network, Miss DuCouteau."

Cassiopeia's smile widened. "It seems we have a lot to discuss."

Caitlyn nodded, leaned forward, and brought her chin to rest on one hand. "It certainly does. Let's start at the beginning, shall we?"

* * *

A/N: Hi. Wow, uhh, sorry for how long this took. Life kind of... punched me in the face, then punched me again, and then kicked me to the ground. So this story wasn't exactly the first thing on my mind, though I did work on it occasionally. Anyway, I'm back! Updates will definitely still take time. But I should be able to get them out monthly, or at least every two months. Special thanks to Americangreek for providing some much-needed motivation, and reminders to update. I really appreciate it!

Hope you guys enjoy this chapter! It's mostly a lot of setup. It's a little on the boring side (sorry, no action this time!), but there are some new elements being introduced here to thicken the plot and get things going, if you will. Anyway, hope y'all have a great day! Thanks for reading :)


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

* * *

Cass claimed she was feeling ill the next morning, citing an upset stomach and chills.

"Go to a doctor," Talon grumbled at her, obviously doubting the veracity of her claim.

"I'm sure it will go away," Cass sighed. Dramatically, Kat noted with a roll of her eyes.

Kat wasn't against playing hookey every once in a while; especially in the wake of her mother's death, she'd skipped school for days at a time. _It's good for my health_ , she used to tell her Father, who would frown disapprovingly after learning from the school that she had skipped class. For the first year, he'd let it slide, knowing it helped her cope. After a year, though, he took her aside and scolded her. She still skipped every now and then, but not as often. Cassiopeia, though, never skipped school, even when she was sick. Something was up.

"We should be sticking together," Kat said quietly, catching her sister's eye and giving her a pointed look. "Now isn't the time to be faking sick."

Cass rolled onto her stomach on her bed and waved dismissively. "I'm not feeling well," she repeated. Upon noticing Kat's skeptical look, she added, "Honest."

Kat crossed her arms and quirked a brow until Cass sighed and pulled herself into a sitting position. "Kat, will you just trust me?"

There was an earnestness in her sister's green eyes, and as Kat searched them, she was again reminded that she hardly knew her sister anymore. If Cass wanted to lie to Kat, she could fool Katarina into going along with just about anything. Katarina thought she could tell when her sister was telling the truth and when she was lying, that she could spot the difference... But she'd been training under LeBlanc, a master of deception and lies. Who knew if Cass was being honest? Kat wasn't sure she could tell anymore.

But she was family. They'd made it this far together; they wouldn't make it any further if they couldn't trust one another. So Kat relented. "Fine," she said. "Be careful."

Cass smiled. "I always am," she replied. If Kat and Talon detected a hint of cockiness in their sister's voice, they said nothing of it.

Talon frowned at Kat, who shrugged and led the way downstairs, where Garen and Lux were waiting for them.

"Cass isn't feeling great," Kat said, explaining her sister's absence.

"She might have a stomach bug or some shit like that."

"Oh, no!" Lux said, her bright smile falling into a slight frown. "I hope she feels better soon."

Garen nodded. "I'll make her some chicken noodle soup tonight. There are some cans of broth in the pantry, if she can stomach it. Remind her to drink plenty of fluids and stay hydrated," he said seriously. The corner of Kat's mouth turned upwards at his concern.

"I'll let her know," she said, and when her eyes met Garen's he grinned. Kat felt her pulse quicken, and she felt as if the air grew charged as she continued to gaze into those cerulean eyes, as if—

"We should leave soon," Talon said, interrupting her thoughts, and she blinked, breaking the spell that had fallen between her and Garen. She noticed Talon giving her an odd look, and she felt her face grow heated.

"You're right!" Garen said, glancing at his watch. "It's already seven twenty! I hadn't noticed." And so the group made their way to Garen's car.

The entire ride to school, Kat forced herself to stare out of the window and ignore Garen in the driver's seat. If he noticed her behavior, he didn't say anything and, blessedly, he didn't address her directly the entire ride. _So he probably noticed_ , Kat thought as they pulled into the parking lot and Garen backed into an open spot.

Garen cleared his throat as he turned off the ignition and pocketed his keys. "We're here!" he announced as everyone gathered their backpacks.

"Sure are!" Lux chirped from the backseat. Actually _chirped—_ likea goddamned bird, or something. What the hell. As was becoming a common occurrence, Kat marvelled at Lux's ability to appear so happy at seven forty five in the fucking morning. It was truly abhorrent.

As she watched Lux hop out of the car and practically bounce towards the school building, with Talon trailing along beside her, Kat became acutely aware of a prickling sensation on the back of her neck. She spun around, reflexes from years as an assassin kicking in, eyes roaming for who was watching her—only to be met with those familiar, startling blue eyes.

Kat swallowed. She definitely, _definitely_ wasn't ready to talk one-on-one with Garen right now. Not after their almost-kiss from the night before. Not after her revelation last night that she was way in over her head, not after her heart had decided it would pound a thousand times a minute when he smiled at her. No, she definitely _was not_ ready to speak with him alone.

Pretending not to notice Garen opening his mouth to speak, Kat said in a rush, "See you in class," before shrugging her backpack onto her shoulder and bolting towards the school.

Cass waited for half an hour before getting out of bed and heading down the hallways until she reached Lux's room. She performed a quick scan of the door, double checking for anything that would reveal that she had entered; any paper slotted into the hinges, or pencil lead. But there was nothing. Really, Cass was disappointed in Lux; for all her supposed genius and thoroughness when it came to technology, she was still just as stupid as most people when it came to protecting her privacy.

Cass reached into her hair and plucked out a pin, and within seconds, she had picked the lock on Lux's door. It swung open at Cassiopeia's touch, and the young woman stepped inside, sparing nary a glance around the room; she had been inside just two days ago and had inspected the room for cameras or recording devices, and she'd found none. And that was still the case today, it seemed. It was disheartening, really; did the Crownguards really think themselves so safe within their own home, just because of the cameras outside? How stupid. Cass would have to tell Lux to step up their security, once all this was over.

That thought gave Cassiopeia pause. Once all this was over... would she really be in a position to offer Lux advice about stepping up the house security? Would Lux even trust her?

 _It doesn't matter_ , Cass thought, making her way to the blonde girl's computer and turning it on. She had a job to do.

Cass reached into her pocket and withdrew a small device, and connected it to Lux's computer. Immediately, Lux's computer began to hum louder, letting out a whir, and then it settled just as quickly. The screen went dark before lighting up again, and then Cass' phone vibrated.

She opened it without glancing at the number; she knew who she was expecting.

"Oh, her protection is very strong," the voice on the other end said. It was a woman, with a light soprano voice. Through the phone, her words were slightly distorted and metallic, which made Cass wonder about the reception wherever the other woman was.

"Is that going to be a problem, Orianna?" Cassiopeia asked, and the woman on the other end laughed.

"Not really. It's just... this is very exciting. I haven't had a real challenge in a long time..." A few moments passed before she chirped a quick, "Done!"

And with that, the monitor blinked twice, and then Lux's desktop loaded. Almost immediately, various files began to open themselves, and Cass watched with intrigue as the files began to be uploaded to an unknown source.

"Oh, she encrypted all of this," the woman said, sounding slightly deflated.

Cass huffed. "Please tell me you can still access whatever's in those files."

"Oh, yes. I _can_ ," Orianna said, but her voice was less enthusiastic than it had been earlier.

"But?" Cass prompted.

"But it's tedious. I don't like doing it," Orianna explained as the last of Lux's files were uploaded.

"Are we done, then?" Cassiopeia asked, and Orianna made a soft hum of confirmation.

"Unless you have her cell. That would be ideal."

Cass gave a quick once-over of the room, on the off-chance that she had missed noticing a phone when she first entered the room. Unsurprisingly, she found none; it would have been incredibly lucky for Lux to forget her phone on the one day that it could be hacked easily.

"No phone, unfortunately," Cass answered.

"Then yes. That is all."

The line went dead, and Cass let out an annoyed sigh. "Goodbye to you, as well," she grumbled. Orianna had never been particularly polite; in fact the first time they had met, Cassiopeia had thought the girl downright rude after she'd called Cassiopeia dull. Cassiopeia was many things, but dull was not one of them. They'd met on a mission, many years ago; Noxus employed a variety of hackers, but Cassiopeia had been impressed by Orianna's work. She'd kept in contact. And after last night, she'd called in a favor from the girl.

"I want to know everything there is to know about the Crownguards," she'd said simply. Orianna understood what that would entail. And so, here they were, with Cass laying the groundwork upon which Orianna could build her surveillance.

She pocketed her phone and glanced around the room once more, this time taking careful stock of all of Lux's things. When she had been here before, she had been focused on Lux's person, watching carefully for every reaction and emotion that crossed the blonde's face. This time, she was able to observe how spartan the girl's room was.

It was extremely atypical for a girl of Lux's age and means to have few possessions or decorations, and yet Cass found that this was the case. For the most part, the walls were bare, save for two framed pictures of Lux and Garen hanging from the walls. The first picture seemed to be a recent one, and the other was taken when they were clearly several years younger. There were only slight touches of personality here and there to be seen throughout the room—several stickers of stars on Lux's computer (were those the ones Talon had bought?), a bookshelf filled to the brim with texts, and a teddy bear placed atop the neatly made bed.

Upon closer inspection, the bookshelf was filled with textbooks and advanced mathematics and science texts, as well as books on computer science and programming. There didn't seem to be any fiction books. Cass had known that Lux was a genius, but as she paged through one of the mathematics books and closed the book with a bewildered shake of her head, she realized that she had underestimated Lux's intellect.

That gave Cass pause. If Lux was studying such advanced subjects in her spare time, why was she still in high school? Clearly, given the wear on the books, she had mastered the material, and had progressed far past the level of high school classes. And yet, she and Lux shared an AP biology class. Certainly, Lux demonstrated intelligence beyond her years, earning perfect grades on every exam, but she had never shown any signs that she was _this_ far ahead of her peers.

Narrowing her eyes in suspicion, Cass made sure everything in Lux's bedroom was as it had been when she had entered. Then, she exited the room and closed the door quietly behind her before making her way down the hallway towards Garen's room.

Like Lux, Garen had locked the door to his room, but he had no other security measures in place. Cass was disappointed, really, as she used the same hairpin as before to unlock his door and step inside.

She looked around his room, just as she had done for Lux, and noted with interest that he, too, had a sparse living space. Really, the only object of note within his room was the baseball bat that was in the corner. Cassiopeia hefted it into the air with a grunt, surprised by its weight. She had known that Garen had played football, but she hasn't known that he played baseball. The bat was well worn from use, and there was no dust gathered on it. Either he had used it recently, or he kept it well taken care of. Cass replaced the bat and made her way to the bookcase, which didn't hold half as many books as Lux's. Garen certainly had... interesting taste in literature, Cass noted, wrinkling her nose at the worn copy of _The Art of War._ Katarina and Cassiopeia had both loathed the text, despite their father's insistence that they would appreciate the knowledge later in life. Cass replaced the book upon Garen's shelf and left the room, locking it behind her.

She was alone in the house. Cassiopeia had taken note of the maids' schedules, the gardeners' routines; none of them were here, yet. She had woken up early enough to hear Mr. and Mrs. Crownguard leave for work at six am sharp, and she knew from a bit of research that both worked late hours and oftentimes left the city for work related ventures. Neither of them would be home any time soon. Until Garen and Lux returned home with Cass's siblings, Cassiopeia had free reign of the house—and she intended to take full advantage of it.

Cassiopeia took note of the time on her phone. She only had a limited window of opportunity. The maid would be in within the hour, and the gardeners would begin their work in thirty five minutes. She would have to work fast, then.

She made her way silently down the halls until she reached the master bedroom of the Crownguard parents. Unlike their children, however, they had taken an extra precaution besides locking their door. Wedged between the door and the doorframe was a single, small piece of paper which fluttered to the ground as Cassiopeia swung the door open. She picked it up and replaced it as she entered the room.

It seemed, for all intents and purposes, normal. It was a large room, with bookcases on the far end, and a vanity near the master bathroom. There were nightstands on either end of the bed, and two lamps to offer light in the night. There was a cupboard along one wall, beside a tall lampstand, and it was to this cupboard that Cassiopeia went. She opened it and wrinkled her nose at the smell of mothballs that assaulted her.

Why was it that old people always insisted on smelling like mothballs? It was revolting, Cassiopeia thought as she reached into her pocket and withdrew a small device. She rummaged through the back of the cupboard, past the coats, and hung it neatly against the wall in the back corner, where it was shrouded in shadows. Unless one knew to look for it, the eye would pass over it without a second glance. A smile found its way onto Cassiopeia's face as she closed the cupboard and made her exit, being sure to replace the paper and lock the door on her way out.

When she returned to her room, she rummaged through her bags and retrieved a small box with an earpiece, and she set it into her purse. And just like that, her work for the morning was done.

With a yawn, Cassiopeia tucked herself into bed. Because of her late night, she was exhausted, and sleep came to her easily. She drifted off, a small smile on her lips.

When Cass awoke, it was to the ring of the doorbell. She shook herself quickly and made her way downstairs in time to see a delivery man heading back into his truck just as the maid was closing the door. In her arms, the maid held a small, nondescript package.

Cassiopeia offered the woman a smile. "Ana, good morning," Cassiopeia greeted, and the maid, a middle-aged woman whom Cassiopeia had charmed on her second day at the Crownguard household, smiled.

"Good mornin', sweetheart," Ana said. "Why aren't ya at school?"

Cassiopeia quickly reigned a pained scowl. "I'm feeling a little under the weather today," she explained. "I woke up feeling terrible. It's mostly passed."

Ana frowned with concern, and placed a hand on Cassiopeia's forehead. "Ya feel a little warm. Might be a slight fever."

Cassiopeia shrugged. "It might be," she lied. Then she nodded towards the package in Ana's arms. "Whose is that?"

Ana adjusted the package in her arms before replying, "Luxanna's. The post man said it was for her, special."

Intriguing... "What is it?" Cassiopeia asked, nodding towards the package the maid held.

The woman shrugged. "I don't know, Miss. But I'm gonna take it upstairs to her room, for when she gets back to school."

"I'm certain she'll appreciate that. You're too good to her, Ana—to all of us," Cassiopeia said with a wide smile. The maid blushed slightly and muttered a quiet thanks before hurrying upstairs.

Ten minutes. That was how long Cassiopeia had to wait for Ana to begin to vacuum the downstairs areas. The loud task meant Ana wouldn't notice Cassiopeia snooping around. With ease, Cassiopeia entered Lux's room again, with a small box cutter and packing tape. With precise movements, she opened the box. Inside, she found a small, nondescript, disposable cell phone.

Well, well, well. Either little Luxanna had fancied herself it was time to upgrade her phone, or there was some other reason she required a disposable phone. And since she had a state-of-the-art phone, it certainly wasn't the former.

Cassiopeia quickly retrieved her own phone from her pocket and dialed Orianna, a smirk growing on her lips.

After the first ring, Orianna picked up, but Cassiopeia didn't give her any time to speak. She got straight to the point of her call.

"It's me. You said you wanted a phone? I found one."

* * *

Garen could have sworn that he and Katarina would have kissed last night if they hadn't been interrupted. Except, in the back of his mind, he wondered if that was actually true. And since he was doubting himself, he most certainly could _not_ swear it to be true. He had his doubts.

Doubts such as, did Katarina even _like_ him? Did Katarina even _want_ to date a young man like Garen, who she likely saw as a studious, rule-abiding rich boy. And what would she think, if they actually _did_ find themselves in a relationship, when she discovered that he moonlighted as a vigilante—that his entire family was involved in Demacia and its activities. And if the rumors were true, which he very much doubted, but he had to consider—if they were true, would a Noxian ever seriously date a Demacian?

And, quite honestly, the same questions could be turned on him, and Garen wasn't sure that he could provide honest, satisfactory answers to them. There was only one question he knew the answer to with absolute certainty: he absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt, liked Katarina DuCouteau.

And it was this fact that frightened Garen. A man of many talents, he was; skilled in the art of dueling, hand-to-hand combat, tactical maneuvers. But when it came to love—no, not love, he quickly corrected, for it was far too early, the emotions far too young to call it love—when it came to _liking_ someone, Garen was a complete novice. Of course he had developed crushes on girls before; when he was twelve he had picked roses from his garden and delivered them to one of his first crushes. And he had received several confessions, especially during his time on the football team, though he had turned all of the young girls down. The most experience Garen had with dating was reading about it in books.

And to even think of dating Katarina? To not only think about it, but to _want_ to date her, want to date her so desperately that it made his chest feel as if it were constricting with every breath he took? That frightened him.

This girl, this young woman, had somehow passed all of his defenses, had somehow worked her way into his thoughts, his heart. They hadn't even really known each other for that long. They'd known of one another since freshman year, but they'd never interacted; the most Garen had thought of her before their project was thinking that she had beautiful hair, and that the rumors of her being a Noxian sounded wild and far-fetched.

Admittedly, perhaps terming his attitude towards these new feelings as being frightened was incorrect. Perhaps intimidated was the correct descriptor for it. But the fact of the matter was that Garen liked Katarina enough to want to date her, and he was not particularly thrilled about that fact.

At the heart of it, perhaps, was that Garen didn't want Katarina to reject him. It was the fear of losing her friendship, her companionship, which made him wary of asking her out. If she said no, and they remained friends, then Garen knew he would be grateful to continue being in her presence and interacting with her. But if she were to reject him, and then avoid him? His heart constricted at the very thought. And besides, the rational part of him reasoned, who was he to put her in the uncomfortable position of having to say yes or no to him? He wasn't going to force her to make that decision. No.

It was better, he reasoned, to just avoid that sort of situation.

Which meant that, as they sat across from one another in Mr. Blitzcrank's class, Garen needed to stop getting distracted any time Katarina shifted, or threw her hair over her shoulder, or—oh, no, smirked after catching his eye.

"That book too boring?" Katarina teased after Garen had very obviously pretended to be distracted by the book in his hands. The book he hadn't been able to focus on for longer than a minute or two.

"Oh, no, it's very fascinating," Garen lied.

"'Customary Practices and Cultural Expectations within Shakespeare's Works,'" Kat read, her nose scrunching in distaste. "Fascinating?" Her tone indicated that she didn't believe him for a second.

Garen sighed. "It's... a tough subject," he admitted. And it was. The material was dense, the text clearly written for a scholastic audience more along the lines of college graduate students and professors, rather than high school students.

"Sounds like shit," Kat said, and Garen couldn't help the sharp exhale of laughter that left him in response.

"I wouldn't phrase it quite like that," Garen replied. "Annoying, tedious, frustrating..."

"All words you definitely want to use to describe the book you have to read," Kat said, rolling her eyes.

"Of course," Garen said, playing along. "It wouldn't be a challenge, otherwise."

"Oh, so you're looking for a challenge?" Kat asked, and the way she quirked a brow at him made his heart stop for a moment.

Before he could reply, the bell rang, and Kat was hoisting her bag over her shoulder and standing before he even registered that school was over. Katarina, being Katarina, was usually halfway out the door at this point. But today was different. After slinging her backpack over her shoulder, she moved to stand by his desk, crossed her arms, and tilted her head slightly. It took Garen a breath too long to realize she was waiting for him.

By the time he'd gathered his things and stood, Kat's patience must have worn thin, because she huffed and grabbed his hand to practically drag him out of the school building. Garen found that her hand in his was warm, and when she let go to unlock her locker, he reluctantly watched as she gathered her things.

Garen held back a sigh before gathering his own belongings from his locker, and the two made their way outside, where their siblings, sans Cassiopeia, were waiting for them. The drive home was filled with Lux's usual chatter about school events and drama, but unlike usual, Garen found it hard to pay attention to his sister's words. Instead, his mind kept drifting to the moment Kat had held his hand. How perfectly their fingers had fit together, how warm the sensation of her palm had been, how smooth her skin was. He glanced towards Kat now, who sat beside him in the passenger seat, and the way the light caught on her hair almost made him slam into the car in front of them. Almost. He avoided any accidents, and managed to play it off as having been startled by some of the gossip Lux had just shared. Even so, he felt the side of his head burning, and knew without having to look that Kat was watching him curiously.

When they got home, they split off; Garen and Lux cited having to do their homework as the reason for leaving the DuCouteaus. Garen hadn't wanted to leave Katarina's side, but he did have homework he needed to complete. With all of the shenanigans recently, he'd fallen behind on some of his reading, so he intended to catch up and take diligent notes. He spent the next hour and a half doing just that, and was even pleased to note that he'd read faster than he'd anticipated. He was going to take a break and see if Talon and Lux were playing video games downstairs—but then the door to his room opened.

Garen stood swiftly and turned to see Lux closing the door behind her and locking it, a frown on her face. In her hand, she carried a familiar phone. It took Garen a moment to place it—it was the phone he and Jarvan had found at the raid on the Noxian hideout, when they had tested out the new equipment.

"Lux, what's—?" he began, but then she held the phone out to him.

"Listen," she said, and then she pressed a button, and a recorded message played. The voice was distorted and sounded metallic and rough. It was impossible to identify the speaker; all that was clear was that it was a male's voice, though he supposed even that could have been untrue.

" _If you're hearing this, then that means you got the phone. I know you're Demacian._ " At that; Garen started, and he gave Lux a questioning glance. But she was still staring intently at the phone, and as the message continued, Garen realized why.

 _"I hid the phone hoping you'd find it. I don't have a lot of time to explain. You'll just have to take me at my word. You're honorable people. I know you'll listen. I've compiled a list of every Noxian leader and their involvement in Noxus, and every Noxian hideout. I'm willing to make a deal—I want full amnesty for my family, and in return, I'll give you the list. Demacians never break a promise. I'll hold you to that._

 _"I've hidden the list at the downtown library, in the basement. Look for the book on this city's history._

 _"I can't emphasize this enough: you need that list. Without it, you stand no chance of ever taking down Noxus' high command. So don't let anyone else get it."_

Silence followed those words. Garen waited, desperately wanting to know more, but the phone was not forthcoming. It seemed that was all there was to the message.

"Who was that?" Garen asked, and Lux frowned.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I just got the phone from Heimerdinger today. I was looking through it and found this. It was hidden. Took a while for me to find it. Whoever hid it knew we would find it, though."

Garen's frown deepened as he thought back on what the message had said. "What do you think? Do you think he's telling the truth?"

Lux shrugged. "I doubt it. It's more likely to be a trap."

Garen crossed his arms. "I agree. But this information... if it _is_ true, it would mean we would be able to shut down Noxus completely, from the top down."

" _If_ it's true, then the courts would have a field day with the members of High Command," Lux agreed, but the cautious frown on her lips only deepened. "If it's true, then there's something else going on, here. Why would this man betray his fellow Noxians? What's the motivation, there? And who is he? Why didn't he contact us directly?"

Garen shook his head. "I don't know," he acknowledged. "But I do know that we have a duty to let Demacia know about this information."

Lux snorted. "You realize I could have found this message the day you and Jarvan found this phone?"

Garen sighed. "Lux, I know you're upset about the way the higher ups handled the situation—"

"I'm upset that they don't respect me. Or you. Or Shyvana, or Quinn, or—or anyone who doesn't have the last name, "Lightshield"."

Garen rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "I... understand your feelings, Lux. They frustrate me, too." And he knew they weren't _just_ talking about Demacian higher ups, now. "They've done nothing to earn our respect. But we have a higher calling, and if saving people's lives and taking down Noxus means we have to listen to them and ignore the way they treat us, then I'm willing to suffer it."

Lux huffed and avoided looking him in the eye. As he watched his sister, her arms crossed, the light blush of anger coloring her cheeks, and her frown that set a wrinkle on her brow, he realized she was growing up. And though he'd always known this, logically, he'd never realized how close to becoming an adult she was. She didn't need his protection, anymore. Perhaps she never had.

"Fine," Lux relented. "But tell Jarvan first, let him ask about it. Otherwise you know they won't even consider going to check this out, since it's probably a trap."

Garen nodded, and pulled out his cell. He had a call to make.

* * *

Talon frowned as he stared at the image on his laptop screen. He zoomed in, then took a screenshot and emailed the image to himself and his siblings.

"What the fuck?" Kat asked a few moments later from her perch on the bed, and Talon knew she'd received the picture.

"The plates," Talon said. "Do you recognize them?" He'd finally managed to get a clear shot of the license plate number. The next step was to find out to whom it belonged.

Kat snorted and returned her phone to her pocket. "No," she answered, "I don't go around memorizing that kinda shit."

Talon hummed in response. "I don't either. I can run them through a database, see if anything comes up."

Kat shrugged. "I don't know what that means. But if it might work, do it."

Talon began to do just that as the door opened, and Cass entered. She closed it behind her, then crossed her arms and leaned against the door. Given the timing, she'd probably received the image he'd sent, too. And her next words confirmed this to be so.

"I recognize them," she stated simply.

He blinked. It took him the span of three seconds to finally formulate a coherent response.

"What?" he asked.

"The plates. I recognize them."

Instantly, Kat was on her feet, her red hair like a seething fire that mirrored the one in her eyes. Talon had only seen Kat this angry on a handful of occasions.

"The plates," Kat said. "Whose are they?"

Cass sniffed. "Leblanc's."

The silence that spanned between them felt like a bottomless chasm which they'd been suddenly thrown into. It seemed like the silence would never end. But it did, suddenly and with enough force to send Talon reeling with emotions. Anger. Hatred. Disgust.

Katarina cursed and Talon scowled. He should have known, he thought to himself, that a snake like Leblanc would be behind this.

"I'll kill her," Kat seethed, her hand unconsciously seeking out the small dagger hidden at her hip.

Though Talon agreed wholeheartedly with Katarina, Cassiopeia didn't seem to share that sentiment. Cass shook her head.

"No. No, none of us are going to be killing anybody. Unfortunately."

Kat's hands curled into fists, and her eyes narrowed. "She took our father. She might have killed him." At that, Kat's eyes flashed. "I _will_ kill her. You can't stop me."

"You can't," Cass said. Talon stood.

"Why not?" Talon asked. "We know she's behind this. If we kill her, we end it all."

"No, you don't," Cass said. "You cut off one head, and three more appear. Even if you could reach her and manage to kill her, that won't stop the Black Rose. She won't tell you what she did with Dad, and good luck finding anything out on your own once you've gone and killed her. Noxus will continue its operations as if nothing's changed. And that's the crux of it— _nothing will change._ "

Talon shook his head. "If we find him, that's enough for me."

"She won't talk. She won't give up any information, even under torture," Cass argued. "You won't be able to find him."

"So we follow her, find where she hid dad, rescue him, and _then_ kill her," Kat said. "The details aren't important."

"Of course the details are important. They're the _most_ important! You don't understand her. You don't know what's going on, that this is so much bigger than a kidnapping." Cass ran a hand through her hair and rolled her eyes. It struck Talon that he hadn't seen her run her hand through her hair since she was a child. Once she'd adopted more refined and sophisticated mannerisms, she had left the gesture behind, along with the rest of her childhood. For her to be so frustrated that she would do it now...

"What do you mean?" Talon asked. His eyes met Cassiopeia's, and in her gaze he saw a kind of searching desperation. It was a look he'd only seen on the streets, where kids starved and lived under cardboard boxes. A look that meant they'd go to any means just to survive. He'd worn that look every day until he had been taken in by the DuCouteau family. Never had he expected to see one of his sisters wear it. "Cass. What's up?"

Cass let out a hiss of air. "Do you two trust me?"

Kat narrowed her eyes. "What are you asking that for?" she asked.

"Just answer me, Kat, or so help me I'll—"

"All right, all right, Jesus," Kat grumbled. "Yes. It's hard, sometimes, but yes. I trust you."

Cassiopeia looked at Talon, gaze unblinking and unwavering. He nodded. "With my life."

Cass slumped against the door just a little—a move so uncharacteristic of her that Talon wasn't sure what to do, what to say. So instead, he waited and listened.

"I... made an agreement."

Kat shifted her weight and put her hands on her hips. "An agreement," she repeated. "With who?"

Cassiopeia's hesitation was only evident in the beat that passed. But then she spoke, and Talon was shocked by her answer.

"The FBI."

Well. Whatever he'd been expecting, that certainly wasn't it.

"What the _fuck_?" Kat said, her voice low. Her hands were still on her hips, but her eyes were no longer narrowed. She looked just as shocked as Talon felt, if not more.

Cassiopeia stood straighter. "We're in a rather tight spot," she said.

"You don't say," Talon responded. Cass gave him an exasperated glance.

"Our enemies' enemies are our allies. We've discussed this."

"The FBI is a wild card," Talon pointed out.

"It's our best option. Our only option, really," Cass said. "We've been searching for Father for a week now, with no results. In fact, we might even be attracting the wrong kind of attention with our efforts. We need help. And the FBI is willing to offer it."

Katarina was still scowling, and Talon couldn't blame her. They had zero reason to trust the FBI, who would just as soon turn on them and throw them into prison, leaving their father to god knows what sort of fate the Black Rose had in store for him.

"What do they want in return?" Kat asked, her voice a low whisper that was almost threatening.

"Our cooperation," Cass replied, her voice just as cool as Kat's. Talon narrowed his eyes. She was being vague. Cass was only vague when she didn't want to tell the whole truth. Kat seemed to notice this as well.

"With what?" she asked.

Cassiopeia hesitated. And Talon knew— _this_ was why she had been nervous earlier. Her nerves weren't about their reaction to finding out she'd gone behind their backs and worked out some sort of agreement with the FBI. It was this—whatever it was she was about to tell them, this was what she was afraid they would get angry about. He braced himself; whatever his sister was about to say, it wasn't going to be good.

"They want us to cooperate with them and assist in their effort to dismantle Noxus completely."

* * *

A/N: It has been a while. Oops. This chapter was just a pain to write, cuz it's all setup and no action. But the upcoming chapters are gonna be pretty intense. Anyway. Happy Holidays, everyone. Special thanks to AmericanSuave for reminding me this fic existed and for helping with ideas!


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